#still haven’t made a masterlist… whoops

[perpetualcynicism]

𝐎𝐍 the morning of the following day, Venti was already in possession of no certain shortage of invitations, each in its own manner requesting his presence to dine or convene with the surrounding community, precisely what Diluc had dreaded, and what Venti had most eagerly anticipated, having received letters from breathless messengers before the clocks could even strike midday. Upon each letter’s arrival, Venti inquired after Diluc’s company and whether he intended to provide it, to which the answer of every question posed was a certain declination. Donna gave her own opinions, which bore striking resemblance to Diluc’s own, though neither gentleman was particularly intent on entertaining them.

At last the matter was decided, that Venti was to breakfast with the Lawrences, luncheon with the Kreideprinzes, and lastly dine with one other family, and to attend to the rest over the following days. He made no delay in preparing himself and setting off on horseback after bidding a hearty farewell to his sister and Diluc. “How eager my dear brother is to meet with uncivilised society!” exclaimed Donna, shortly after Venti’s departure. “I do hope they are not unmannerly towards him, as I have heard those in the country can be. What think you, Master Diluc?” Diluc assented half-heartedly. “I do not think there is anyone here worthy of his hand in marriage,” she continued loudly, “much less yours.” Turning on Diluc, “Though I would be right in assuming you are not looking for marriage?” 

Diluc said that this was, indeed, the case, to Donna’s great, and very evident, pleasure. 

“I will take to my study,” said he, this sudden desire unprompted by nothing more than the weariness which always arose through spending too long alone in Donna’s presence. The gentleman excused himself before there was the time for protest. Here, he passed some hours reading or outsmarting his own hand at chess, though the majority of his solitude was spent attending to documents of varying importance which begged his attentions, including those inconsequential—a bill to sign here, a letter to write there—and those which demanded a deeper concentration. One such attendance of his was to record the recent movements through the country of the Fatui: a most vile and despicable organisation towards which Diluc harboured a long-held resentment, ever since their meddling had robbed him both of a father, and a close friend, all of this before he had reached even the tender age of eighteen years. These two instances brought about a deep hatred in his heart, accompanied by a deep mistrust of others, and Diluc found he could not sleep at night lest he kept vigilant watch over the wretched group’s meddlings. 

Venti returned at dusk from his various attendances, upon whose arrival Diluc at last parted with his study, and no hesitation was taken in retelling all of the day’s events since his departure that morning. The Lawrences, he reported to ‘possess a fortitudinous heart and great strength of spirit’, both alcoholic and otherwise, though ‘the height of their pride gives their charms little merit’, and the Kreideprinzes, or at least the father whom Venti met, was told to be ‘possessing wisdom of mind and great observation, if not preferring reading to speaking, much to his wife’s frustration.’

In spite of the praise which was largely distributed amongst the attended families, with only the occasional critique given regarding the quality of various alcoholic beverages, Diluc’s private opinion was far from being stirred: rather, almost in contrary to the glowing commendation bestowed by Venti, his suspicion only heightened itself farther upon hearing each compliment, for he was unable to accept the credibility of households with so few stains on their name. Donna appeared similarly unimpressed, however the frequent glances she cast towards Diluc told of her wishing only to share his opinion, rather than his doubts.

“Oh! I had almost forgotten,” exclaimed Venti quite suddenly, “that there is to be a ball next Wednesday (the present day was Saturday), which a large part of the town shall come to, and we have been invited. I should very much like for you to accompany me there.” Donna at once confessed her excitement towards such an event, and thus, in the natural order of things, the only member of their party remaining unconvinced was Diluc, who expressed his certainty against any chance of his going with them.

“To go to a ball as only two!” cried Donna in distress. “Master Diluc, you shall shame us.”

“You know I care little for the good opinion of strangers. You may go if it pleases you.”

In a great panic brought forth by the thought of spending dreaded time apart from Diluc, she called upon her sibling for support. “Oh, my dearest brother, you must convince Master Diluc to come with us!”

Venti was silent for a moment, to the point at which Donna was prepared to cry out again, until he smiled suddenly. “Say, Master Diluc, how would you like to make a deal with me?” The gentleman in question had no interest towards whatever offer may follow, but for the sake of his friendship, bid Venti continue. “Should you come to this dance—only the one, and not a single more—I shall personally ensure your peace is not impeded on by any gatherings for the rest of our stay, unless you specifically request it.”

“I agree to your proposition,” said Diluc after brief contemplation upon the suggested offer. “However, what reasons should I ever have for ‘specifically requesting’ my peace to be impeded on?”

“Why, should you fall in love, of course!”

“And that shall not happen,” Mistress Donna was quick to interject, before the topic of conversation could be explored for any longer, “for nobody of such standing as these people will satisfy Master Diluc’s extraordinary tastes, and so there is nothing at all to worry about.” As she spoke, Mistress Donna failed to hide the blush of distress risen in her cheeks, clearly the most worried herself by this possible turn of events compared to either of the gentlemen; even him who was the very subject of the matter in the first place.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 [𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫] [𝐀𝐎𝟑]

[mothhball]

Dark! Tom (from the party) has had a thing for Janet and Bill’s barely legal neighbor for so long. So at their party, while everyone else is drunk and too oblivious, Tom follows her outside and ((;

THE PARTY FAVOR

DARK!TOM X FEM!READER

summary Tasked with congratulating Janet in your parent's name, you head over to hand over a party favor. But a bottle of champagne isn't the only thing that's being thirsted over tonight.

warnings Tom is a little gross in this lmao. But it's Dark!Tom, so what do you expect 🥴💦 Big age difference!! (Reader is freshly 18, Tom is in his late thirties) P in V , unprotected, hints of drug use, foul language, alcohol consumption, cheating

notes Whoops, this got a little longer than I planned! my last little gift before I go on vacation lmao <3 tysm for requesting this, anon! I had fun writing this! Please turn a blind eye to any mistakes, I'm tired aaaaa

! MINORS DNI !

main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 2.9k

“God, I haven’t seen you in years.”

You tense up at the voice, turning around to stare at a familiar face. You were just in the middle of hyping yourself up to even knock on the door when said door opened, leaving you unprepared and caught off-guard like a deer in the headlights. But it’s not the person you expected. No, instead of the expected Janet, her friend April is staring back at you, throwing a wrench into your plans. See, you’re here on a mission. A mission with easy instructions.

Your parents left a bottle of champagne and a greeting card on the counter before they went to the theater, asking you to head over to your neighbors Bill and Janet to congratulate them on Janet’s ministerial appointment. But now, you’re already going off-course.

“April… lovely to see you,” you smile at her, nodding down towards the gift you brought. But before April can respond, Janet’s voice can be heard from inside.

“Who is it?”

“Your neighbor. The little one. Well, not so little anymore.” April gives you a once-over, not even pretending to be cordial with you. In a way, it’s admirable of her. She never bends over backwards to please people, and she definitely has no trouble speaking her mind. If only she wasn’t such a fucking hater.

Janet joins her in the doorway, looking at you with an expression that’s both relieved and distressed. If you’re the deer in the headlights, she’s the deer that has already made acquaintance with the hood of a bulky SUV.

“Oh, what a surprise. I didn’t expect you to come over, honestly. So lovely to see you. How are your parents?” Janet begins, raising her voice a little to drown out an argument that’s happening inside. You can see the forced smile, the exhaustion in every line on her face. And then, to both April’s and your surprise, Janet invites you inside with a wave of her hand. This wasn’t the plan. Not at all. You’re supposed to hand over the bottle and card and leave. Leave. Going inside the damn house definitely wasn’t part of your instructions.

“Uhm… Look, Janet, if this is a bad time –“ You try to decline, only to be cut off by the hostess of the party.

“No, no. Don’t be silly. Please, come in.” She notices your skeptical glance past her into the house, realizing that, despite her best efforts, you must’ve heard the last syllables of the argument that happened in the living room. Still, Janet puts on a brave face, desperate to play the part of the overjoyed, newly elected minister. The silence between you drags on for a few more seconds before she steps aside to make the invitation even more clear.

“Please,” she repeats, and this time it sounds like a plea you’re too polite to ignore.

The house feels off. You've been over a few times before, and the place has never once felt this… depressing. The living room reeks of misery, and you get the feeling that you stumbled into something you shouldn't be a part of. But now you're here, still clutching the bottle of champagne and the greeting card. There's a little stain on the red envelope, caused by your clammy hands digging into the paper, but you just assume that Janet won’t care.

You’re proven right when she takes the gift from you, only to immediately set the card aside in favor of opening the bottle of champagne. As she pours enough glasses for everyone, she tentatively tries to make conversation.

“I heard it was your birthday? You’re 18 now, aren’t you? God, what an age… So young. And so full of joy…” she trails off for a moment, and you witness in real time how her expression falls and twists into something pained and dejected. Then she catches herself and clears her throat, quickly replacing her sullen demeanor with something more cheerful. A typical politician.

“Well, happy belated birthday.”

Everyone else is stuck in their own thoughts, quietly muttering their congratulations, and you’re once again reminded why you never join the celebrations whenever your parents receive an invitation from Janet. You grace the group with a tight-lipped smile, downing your glass of champagne and accepting a refill.

The slam of the bathroom door almost causes you to drop your drink, and as you look up, you’re met by the sight of Tom stomping back into the room. You pause, unable to stop your eyes as they rake across his form, taking in the tension that has captivated every cell in his body. His forehead is covered by a thin layer of sweat, and his usually neat hair is tousled, plucked apart by skittish hands. You also don’t miss the way he hurriedly rubs the tip of his finger over his gums.

Tom clears his throat, straightening his ridiculously expensive suit jacket as he approaches you, and he meets your gaze with a look of recognition in his baby blues. Out of everyone in this dreadful group of characters, it’s him you get along with the most. At least you did, back when you last spoke and the air didn’t feel as thick as fucking tar. Something about Tom’s arrival only causes the tension to worsen, and you flinch as Janet’s hand lands on your shoulder.

“And your parents? Going on vacation, are they?”

You blink at her, taking a moment to digest the absolute whiplash this entire situation is giving you. This feels hellish, in a way. As if you’ve wandered into your own spinoff of Dante’s Inferno, desperate to crawl out of this ring of hell and back to your room to try and forget this ever happened.

“Yeah… They’re leaving for Italy in two days. Turin. For three weeks.”

Janet nods, looking absent as you answer the question she asked in the first place, and you awkwardly sip on your glass as she starts a new topic without acknowledging your response. You can feel Tom seething next to you as Janet speaks, radiating a nasty energy that’s seemingly directed at the host, sitting not too far away on a chair in the middle of the room. Tom’s jaw clenches, and you can practically hear how his teeth grind together.

Finally, he snaps.

“Are we going to pretend that nothing happened? Are we seriously going to pretend that Bill didn’t fuck my wife?”

The room immediately falls silent, and your eyes almost pop out of your head. So that was the topic of the earlier argument. You look at him, and he scoffs, turning away from the group.

“God, I –“ He cuts himself off, running his hands through his hair and down his face as if he’s trying to wipe the turmoil and exhaustion off his skin. Obviously, to no avail. “I need some air.”

Some minutes pass, and you feel incredibly out of place as another argument starts within the group, only getting worse with every glass of champagne—and now wine—that’s being chugged by everyone involved. You clear your throat, trying make yourself known.

“I should go as well. Uhm… it’s been nice. Congrats again, Janet.”

The woman in question doesn’t even notice that you’re slinking away from the party, too busy glaring daggers into her husband while Bill is talking about Marianne, Tom’s beautiful wife. Good lord, you’ve never felt more relieved to leave someone’s home.

Outside, you march through the small backyard, heading straight to the little gate that separates your property from your neighbor’s, and you’re almost back within your comfort zone when a voice stops you.

“Hey. Come… Come here for a moment.” You look over your shoulder, spotting Tom as he’s leaning against the wall next to the dustbins, head in his hands. Torn between your desire to leave and the empathy you feel for the man, you hesitate for a breath before you approach him.

“Are you alright? I can’t imagine…”

Without answering, Tom lifts the lid off one of the dustbins, revealing a gun sitting pretty among the trash. You can feel the blood draining from your face, and you recoil, breath hitching within your throat.

“Jesus Christ – “

“Shh, shh! I know. Just –“ Tom cuts himself off, raising his hands in an effort to calm you down. When you’re just looking at him instead of running, he lets out a sigh of utter devastation. “You know I can’t do this. And I won’t, but... I… I found out this morning that Bill…”

He shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence, and your heart twists a little as you see the tears welling up in his eyes. In an attempt to comfort him, you reach out to set a gentle hand on his shoulder, which causes him to crumble even more. Tom lets out a choked scoff, shaking his head as his anger grows alongside the grief and disappointment.

“And I’ve always been faithful! I never cheated on Marianne! Even though I’ve had plenty of opportunities! Even… God, even with you around, I’ve always… always kept a grip on myself.”

He sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, before he meets your eyes again, and you startle. There’s still anger in his eyes. But another emotion has joined in as well, filling his gaze with something dark and hungry that causes you to pull your hand back again.

Suddenly, you’re very aware of your situation.

“I’m sick of pretending. Sick of denying myself. I’m a man too, god damnit.”

He’s quick to snatch you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in against his frame. You know you should struggle. You should tell him off. But you’d be a liar if you claimed that he had never once crossed your mind late at night. Tom is the kind of man who inspires your hands whenever you touch yourself. His face is the one you imagine hovering above yours when you’re knuckle-deep in your pretty little pussy.

“Wait, I –“ You try to speak, but he’s quick to maneuver you up against the wall, pressing you against brick and mortar and trapping you in place with his body.

“No. I’ve waited long enough.” He grits his teeth, catching both your wrists to pin them behind yourself over the small of your back and hold them in place with one of his larger hands. “Do you know how hard it was? To see you prancing around… I was always scared you’d have a boyfriend when you turned 18. Lucky me.”

You swallow hard, letting out a squeak as his free hand reaches around to pull up your shirt and bra, revealing your soft skin to the mild air and his eager fingers. Tom rolls one of your nipples between his pointer and thumb, tugging the hardening bud before he moves onto the next one, and you can hear how shaky his breath is getting as he continues to grope your tits. You squirm at a particularly harsh tug, causing him to press you up further against the wall, immobilizing you completely as he undoes his belt and zipper.

His deft hands take care of your jeans and panties next, opening them and pulling them down as much as he needs to gain access to your sweet cunt.

“Tom…” you whine, feeling the head of his cock brushing up against your dripping slit. He grunts in response, not bothering to hear you out as he sinks his length into your velvety folds, causing his breath to shudder against the shell of your ear. You wince, letting out a soft noise of discomfort as he pushes deeper, rolling his hips against yours to set a shallow rhythm.

“You can take it. Look at how fucking wet you are. You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?”

You want to protest, but right as you open your mouth, he aims a rough thrust up against that delicious sweet spot within your cunt, luring a filthy noise from your lips that only spurs him on even more. Tom still has your arms restrained, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he stretches you open on his cock, getting your tight walls used to his girth.

His fingers push into your mouth, middle and ring pressing down on your tongue to make you gag and whimper simultaneously. Every time he shoves his fingers deeper, your body tenses and drool dribbles down your chin, right onto your exposed tits. It’s rough and fast, overwhelming you in more ways than one. Tom grunts into the crook of your neck, panting against your skin like a man possessed only by the desire to claim, to mark, to own.

The wedding ring still sitting around his finger clinks against your teeth, and you cringe, letting out a soft whine of discomfort that’s quickly shushed by the man behind you.

“Shh… Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Fuck, you squeeze my cock so well when you gag on my fingers…”

He pounds his hips against yours in quick, deep thrusts, fucking his cock into your cunt at an angle that makes your toes curl and your knees buckle. In that moment, you’re grateful that he chose to take you against the brick wall since you’re heavily relying on the structure and Tom’s grip on you to stay upright.

“And you’re so sweet… You don’t care about my job, right? No, you don’t. You’re not like Marianne. Always being so fucking sentimental on her high horse.”

He spits out the words, silencing any further comments from himself by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The rhythm of his thrusts quickens as he chases his high, and his hand finally releases your wrists to instead reach between your thighs to rub insistent circles around your clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure draws a wail from your lips, and Tom pulls his fingers free from your mouth to instead stifle any noises more effectively with the palm of his hand. His mouth is next to your ear, allowing you to hear every rasp of his breath and the subtle whine of his voice.

“You’re going to cum for me, right? You’re going to finish nice and quietly like a good girl on my cock, hm? Yes, you are.”

He uses his grip over your jaw to make you nod, and he hums in approval as he meets your hazy eyes. Slowly, the pace of his fingers on your clit builds into a crescendo, and his gaze never once strays away from your face. Like a man dying of thirst, Tom drinks in every twitch in your expression, every breathy groan that’s muffled by his hand. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours right as you cream all over his length, twitching while he fucks you through your climax. Groaning, he removes his hand from your jaw to hold onto the flesh of your hips, pistoning into your fluttering cunt even faster, harder, more desperately.

Finally, his thrusts grow erratic, and he pulls out of you at the very last second, reaching for your panties to shoot his thick cum all over the soft fabric. Tilting his head back, he swallows hard as he milks himself dry with a few more pumps of his hand before he releases his grip on you. You slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath while Tom straightens out his appearance.

“This was… worth the wait,” he pants out, reaching into his pocket to pull out a marker. He kneels down, holding onto your knee, while he writes his phone number on the inside of your thigh, marking your skin with the black ink.

“Text me when your parents are in Venice. Or Turin. Or wherever the fuck they’re going.”

You nod back at him, whispering a small "alright,"  which makes him pause. He gets back up to his feet, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before he takes off his wedding ring and drops it into the dustbin right next to the gun. Your eyes meet again, and his expression softens for a split second before he leaves to get back into the house, throwing himself back into the dreadful party and leaving you behind to walk back home with shaky legs and sticky underwear.

Two days later, your parents finally leave for their trip. You follow them to the doorstep, watch with baited breath as luggage is crammed into the family car and the GPS is set up. Then, after the exchange of hugs and goodbyes; after your mom hands you 50 quid as an extra allowance and she waves to you out of the window as your dad starts the motor, they drive off and leave you alone. The house feels dreadfully empty as you close the door and lean against the frame. A minute goes by. Then another.

Eventually, you reach for your phone and open the contact you shouldn’t have saved.

“I’m home alone.”

Sent. Received. Read. For a moment, there’s nothing. You bite the nail of your thumb, grappling with the possibility that he regrets what happened and is now trying to avoid you. And maybe that would be for the best. Maybe you’d be able to move past it and make peace with the fact that you’ll never be able to feel those hands on your skin again. But then those little dots pop up. He’s typing. He’s responding.

“Good girl. I’m coming over.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @rosiemarieyn @sagepixie

@paradiseprincesss @vegasisthinking @ilovedottore @cillianslvt @strangeobsessed

@ryecosse @ribbonystar @calicoartie

[axelsagewrites]

Truth or Dare

Pairing: ivar x reader

Word count: 1101

Warnings: ivar being insecure, drinking, brief mentions of sex, kissing

Masterlist Here

Growing up with the Ragnarssons got you in a lot of well questionable situations but tonight was also one of them. Except at least no one wanted to kill anyone. Yet. The night is young after all. “I dare you to,” Ubbe began, drunkenly waving his cup at Sigurd, “to down that whole horn of mead in one,” he said as Sigurd rolled his eyes while Hvitserk, Ivar, and you cheered him on.

“Fine, fine,” he eventually gave in with a smile, drinking the alcohol he’d been avoiding all night in 10 seconds flat. “Now,” he said, eyes wandering the circle. You were all sat a few feet from the bustling hall where they were celebrating their return from the latest raid, but this was far more your style. Even as Sigurd pointed his finger at you, you smiled, “Truth or dare?”

“Hmm,” you wondered which would get you in worse bother considering the four drunk men you considered your closest friends. “Truth,” your response was met with groans and even Ivar leaned over to whisper ‘coward’ in your ear.

“True or false,” he started, his eyes dancing in a way that made you nervous, “You and Leif,” he said, eyebrows raised making Ubbe and Hvitserk ooo at you, but Ivar stayed silent.

You rolled your eyes at Sigurd, “That wasn’t a question,”

“Please you know what I’m going to ask,”

“Whatever do you mean dear Sigurd?” you smiled, batting your lashes at him.

“You’ve fucked?” Hvitserk jumped in and the boys’ cackles almost covered up the low growl from Ivar but none of them seemed to notice.

You shot him a quick look before answering, “No,” you said and Ivar’s shoulders finally untensed.

“But you’ve kissed?” Ubbe said, making things worse instantly.

You rolled your eyes once more before taking a drink out of your flask, “No you only get one question. Now Ivar truth or dare?”

As you turned to face the blue-eyed boy you did your best not to stare too obviously at his face. You weren’t sure why or when your crush started on Ivar, but it was getting harder to ignore the older you both got. However, after a few beats of silence he finally spoke, “I do not wish to play anymore, I am tired. goodnight,”

All four of you watched after him as he dragged himself away however he wasn’t heading home. “What’s wrong with him?” Sigurd asked as Ivar disappeared into the forest tree line.

“I’m gonna go- “a staggering Ubbe said as he tried to stand but you quickly pushed him back down and stood.

“I’ll go,” you said, not even turning back to chastise their whoops and Woo’s.

It didn’t take long to find Ivar with his eyes closed and back against a tree. As you walked you tried to be quiet, but you heard a twig snap and Ivar sigh. You grimaced as you moved to sit down next to him though he still would not open his eyes. “What is the matter Ivar?”

“It’s nothing,”

“Please Ivar,” you said, sighing before deciding to try make him laugh, “You’re never this calm when your upset,” you joked but he only sighed once more.

Finally, though he opened his eyes, but he looked straight forward. He took a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he spoke, “You never answered the question,”

“What question?”

“Ubbe’s question,” he said, his voice straining as you noticed him gripping his hand into a fist.

You paused for a moment before you realised, letting out a sigh of relief, “No Ivar. I haven’t kissed him. Is that what upset you?” he said nothing again, closing his eyes once more. “Ivar please what is wrong? Why does it bother you who I kiss?”

“It doesn't- I mean I- “he sighed, his breathing becoming heavier, “I just didn’t want to be the last one to have ever kissed someone. That’s it. okay?” he said, finally turning to look at you with a glare behind his eyes. Most would flinch under his gaze, but your face softened when you saw the hurt behind his eyes, “And I didn’t want to wait around for someone, even you, to ask me a stupid question like that,”

“Ivar- I wouldn’t have asked you that,” you said as his eyes fell to the floor, “I didn’t know you hadn’t kissed anyone either,”

“You- “Ivar paused, lifting his head, “You’re lying,”

“Am not!” you protested, “Why would I lie?”

“To make me look less stupid?”

You laughed at that, shoving his shoulder, “Where would the fun in that be? If anything, I’m more surprised you haven’t kissed someone,”

Ivar rolled his eyes, “Yeah right. Who would want to kiss me?” he said as he turned his gaze to you. his eyes knocked the wind out your lungs and for a moment you considered not saying anything.

“I would,” you finally said, your voice soft.

His eyes perked up at your words though, no longer able to take it back, “You would?” he asked, and you nodded gently. Another few moments of silence passed before he cleared his throat, “Perhaps it would be better for us to be each other’s first kiss. So, we can um learn what to do,” he said as his eyes fell once more to the floor.

“Perhaps,” you said, shuffling closer, “Ivar?” you said, your head instinctively leaning closer to his so that when he looked up his nose brushed yours, “Would you like to kiss me?” you asked, his breathing fanning your lips.

Ivar swallowed hard, his eyes darting to your lips, “Yes,” he eventually breathed out, “I would like that very much,”

He stayed frozen but slowly your lips dipped in till they brushed against his. Fuck it. you closed the gap, your eyes falling shut as you felt his lips against yours. the kiss was soft and gentle and lasted only a brief second before you pulled away, but you were still nose to nose.

“Ivar?” you tried to ask but his lips moved too quickly, capturing yours again but you were quick to catch up. Your hands moved to cover his, bringing them over to rest on your waist before yours moved to his shoulders which you could finally feel how muscular they’d become.

You kissed till you couldn’t breathe anymore and when you pulled away his lips tried to follow as you both gasped for air. “I think,” Ivar began to pant, “I like kissing you,”

“Good,” you grinned, your hand moving to cup his face, “Then lets never stop,”

[stuckinthesun]

༝༚༝༚ Tic-Tac-Toe ༝༚༝༚

Part 2

Black suit mod!Leon x fem!Reader

Leon masterlist

You hated these banquets, it was just a bunch of rich people trying to prove just how rich they were. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were childhood friends with the president’s daughter, you wouldn’t even be here.

Normally you wouldn’t be here, choosing to make some excuse to get out of it that Ashley would envy you for, but this dinner was an exception. It was to celebrate Ashley’s safe return home from being held hostage in Spain.

You’re here to support your friend, although she keeps being whisked away to talk to random people about her “adventure” like it was some thrilling vacation.

So here you sat, in the back of the room alone, with your own tray of champagne and a pen. What’s the pen for, you ask? Well, as you sat there, drinking and bored out of your mind, you looked down at your legs and realized something. The fishnet stockings you wore made for the perfect tic-tac-toe canvas.

And that’s how you’ve been spending the last ten minutes, playing a game of tic-tac-toe against yourself, when you hear someone clear their throat. You look up, a little sluggishly due to the alcohol in your system, and when you see who’s standing at your table, you’re eyes widen.

Leon S. Kennedy, aka the man who went all the way to Spain and saved Ashley, by himself.

You’ve met him before, briefly, when he first brought Ashley home, but you haven’t really seen him since. You were too focused on your friend to really register anything else.

But now that everything’s calmed down, and Ashley has reassured you that she’s alright, you finally take in the agent who rescued her.

And he looked… he looked good.

The man is wearing a three piece suit, the dress shirt and tie a dark grey and the outer coat a nice black, and he looked at you with amusement as he asked, “Are you playing tic-tac-toe… on your leg?”

You look down at your own leg, as if you needed to confirm that was what you were in fact doing, before looking back up at him, “And what if I am?”

Leon laughs, and it sounds so pretty that you instantly decide you need to hear it again. The man pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, “I’m not judging you, actually seems more entertaining than anything else here.”

“Ah a man with taste,” You say, and move your chair until it’s closer to his before propping your leg up on his lap, “Well then, Leon, X’s or O’s?”

Now it’s you looking at him with amusement as his eyes widen and flicker between your leg in his lap and your face, “You’re serious?”

“Very, now grab a glass and make your move.” You instruct, pushing the pen into his hand and grabbing your own glass before taking a swig.

Leon just looks at you for a moment, and then at the pen in his hand, and then your leg in his lap. You watch him with a raised eyebrow as he seems to shrug to himself, grabs a glass of champagne, down it in one go and then grab your leg, carefully drawing an X through a gap in your stockings.

You whooped a little louder than you meant to, making some of the guests nearby look at the both of you. Leon shushed you with a laugh, putting a hand over your mouth and you giggled, pleased with yourself for hearing that sound again.

Still giggling you took the pen from his grasp and looked at your leg, deciding where to place your move. Leon leaned over a little to watch as he said, “So this is gonna be really awkward since you clearly know my name-“

You let out a dramatic gasp, and look up just in time to watch him roll his eyes while fighting off a smirk, “You don’t know my name?!”

“You never-“

“Shame!”

“You never introduced yourself!” Leon defended himself, picking up another glass of champagne, “You just thanked me, hugged me and left!”

“I was a little preoccupied,” You glare playfully, drawing an O right next to his X, “My best friend just got back from being kidnapped, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m the one that saved her, remember?” Leon leaned closer and plucked the pen from your fingers.

You leaned in closer to, “Yeah, that’s why we’re both at this stupid thing, remember?”

His hand, that had stayed respectfully on your knee since he first touched you, slid a little higher. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers getting caught in your tights and his hot breath fanning your face, “So are you gonna tell me your name, or are you gonna make me guess?”

You smirk and open your mouth-

“Ahem,” The sound of someone clearing their throat startled both of you.

You and Leon jumped away from each other with lightning speed, so fast you about fell out of your chair trying to get your legs off his lap. When you looked up you saw none other than Ashley Graham herself, wearing a shit eating grin as she tried not to laugh.

“Ashley,” You greeted nonchalantly, raising an empty champagne glass toward her.

“Y/N,” Ashley said, unable to hold in a chuckle. You see Leon look at you from your peripheral and sigh, bummed you didn’t get to tell him your name yourself.

“Leon,” Ashley says then, and the agent sits up instantly, looking at the blonde girl, “My dad’s been looking for you.”

“Oh, uh,” Leon looked at you, and you looked back at him with a sad smile. He returned the smile and with a small sigh he stood up, “Right, thanks Ashley.”

“Of course, bye Leon.” Ashley smiled knowingly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the agent blush.

“Bye. It was nice to officially meet you, Y/N.” Leon said, giving you one last smile before walking away, leaving you with your friend.

“Why do you have X’s and O’s on your leg?”

…and ink on your leg.

I found the picture on the right and just knew I had to write something

[therealdisneyfan2319]

First Night | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Your first time with Wanda :)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (Minors DNI), language, age gap (R is 25, Wanda is 38)

Word Count: 4.3K

Masterlist

A/N: This is a Stripper MILF Wanda fic.  It takes place during the events of Woman of the Night.  Welcome to the Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe!  

Wanda was definitely not expecting to see you standing in her kitchen at midnight cooking pasta, but there was a first time for everything. 

“Oh god,” she gasped, clutching her chest as she saw you standing in the kitchen.

“Hey babe,” you grinned as you stirred the strands of linguini around the sauce pan, mixing it with the marinara sauce you stole from the cupboard.  “How was work?”

“Work was fine how…how did you get in here?” Wanda asked.  She dropped her duffle bag on the ground, trying to figure out both why and how you were standing in the kitchen.

“Oh, I climbed in through the window.  It was unlocked.”

“Okay, but why?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Am I not allowed to make dinner for my girlfriend?” you asked as you turned off the burner, carefully stirring the pasta so as to not spill any over the side of the pan.

“Grateful as I am, sweetheart, it’s midnight.”  She wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as she squeezed you close.

“And?”

“Some of us aren’t in our twenties anymore, Y/N.  Some of us like to be asleep before the sun comes up.”

“Do you at least want some food?  I have to say, I think this is my best pasta yet.”

“I told you I’d have you whipped into shape in no time.  I might not be Italian, but I’m still a pretty good cook if I do say so myself.  The boys haven’t gone hungry yet,” she chuckled, tickling your sides as she squeezed you close.

“Hey now!”  You jumped as she tickled you, whipping the spoon out of the pan and speckling the counter with the red sauce.  “Keep that up and no pasta for you!”

“Oh shut up,” Wanda rolled her eyes as she grabbed the spoon from your hand.  “You’re lucky the boys aren’t home this weekend.  They would’ve ambushed you with their nerf guns if they heard someone break into the house.”

“Well if I actually met them…”

“Y/N, I told you.  Not yet.  It’s too soon.” Wanda’s tone hardened as she dished pasta into her bowl.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.  “I want to meet them, Wanda.  You talk about them so much that I feel like I practically know them!  Besides, I think Tommy needs to have his butt whooped at Mario Kart so he’ll stop being a dick to Billy about it.”

Wanda laughed as she sat down at the table, shaking her head.  It had only been two months since the two of you made your relationship official and neither of you were interested in rushing things, Wanda not wanting to introduce a new man into the boys’ lives so soon and you because this was your first real relationship since high school.  Sure, you dated a girl for a few months your junior year of high school and went out on some random dates throughout college, but you’d never had anything this serious before.  While you enjoyed spending time with Wanda, there was still a lot you’d never experienced and you didn’t want to rush in too fast.

“I know.  You’ll meet them, I promise.  I plan on keeping you around, mister.  We’re a package deal.”  She took a bite of the pasta, blowing on it to cool it off before putting a forkful in her mouth.  “You know, that’s actually not half bad.”

“Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.”  Wanda giggled as she helped herself to another bite.

You offered to take the bowl from Wanda once she was done eating, cleaning up and packing away the leftovers as she went to the living room to pick out a show for the two of you to watch.

“Dick Van Dyke again?  Wanda, have you watched any shows from this century?” you asked only half-jokingly as you plopped down on the sofa next to her.

“I need something mindless after work tonight.  And it’s my house so if you don’t like it-”

“Hey, what’s fine with you is fine with me.”  You put your hands up defensively.

“And I wanna be the big spoon, too.”  She reached her arms out to you, practically begging to snuggle you as she laid on the couch.  You chuckled as you curled up into her chest.  As much as you loved holding Wanda, it was nice being held for a change.  She brought you an immense sense of comfort as she wrapped her arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

The titles rolled by, the screen flashing with black and white images.  You felt Wanda’s body soften up as she immersed herself into the distraction of the sitcom world, the stress of the day melting off her.  Try as you might to concentrate on the show, you were distracted.  Wanda’s body was intoxicating.  Once you got a taste of it you didn’t want to stop.  Snuggling up against her, feeling the way her chest rose and fell with each breath and the way her heart beat up against it, made you want to lose yourself in her presence.  So as she stared at the screen, you began to tease your fingers up and down her thigh.

“Can I help you?” she laughed as she felt your hand moving on her leg.

“Maybe…” You looked up into her stunning green eyes, her pupils dilating as you trailed your fingers higher up her leg.  You could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she looked down at you.  Using her thigh to push yourself up, you turned your body so that you were face to face with her, your lips mere inches from each other.  As you stared into each other’s eyes, both of you waiting to see who would make the first move, you reached up to cup her face with your hands before leaning in to kiss her.

Kissing Wanda was a religious experience.  Her lips were heavenly, softer than anything you’d ever experienced.  You loved the way she practically melted into you when you captured your lips in hers.  These kisses were soft and sweet.  Her lips were filled with a tenderness that made you weak at the knees.  You felt her smile into you as you explored her, gently nibbling on her bottom lip as you helped her lean back into the pillow.  The TV show was long forgotten as Wanda wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close on top of her.  

“Mmmm I missed this,” she sighed as you kissed your way down her jaw to her neck.  You bit down on a sensitive spot, drawing a moan from her as you licked and sucked over the tender point and marked her as yours.  “What are the boys going to think when they see I’ve got a hickey on my neck?”

“That you’re all mine,” you answered.  “All mine.”  You kissed your way back up her neck, working your way to her lips as you took them greedily.  These kisses were different.  They were more passionate, more intense.  You ran your hands up and down Wanda’s back, eventually running them up under her shirt.

“Y/N,” she breathed as she panted for breath.  You barely gave her a second to recover before slamming your lips against hers, brushing your tongue over her bottom lip, begging for permission to explore her mouth.  She enthusiastically obliged, her tongue crashing into yours as you explored each other deeply for the first time.  As you continued to kiss her, Wanda’s hands roamed from your back to your front, trailing down your stomach until they came to your belt.  The feeling of your buckle being undone snapped you back to reality as you abruptly broke away from her.

“Woah, stop, stop,” you said.  Suddenly everything felt too hot and too fast and too much all at the same time.  

Wanda’s eyes grew worried with concern, her brow furrowing as she looked up at you.  “What’s wrong?”

You gulped nervously as you looked down at her, sitting back on your heels to put space between the two of you.  “Nothing.  It’s…nothing, I’m fine.  Sorry.”

“Sweetheart, something’s wrong.  Did I do something?”

“No.  It’s…I, Christ this is so stupid, I’m a…I’ve nev-I’ve never had sex before,” you blurted.  You felt the heat rising in your face as you blushed a deep shade of red.  Wanda’s eyes widened at your revelation.  “I mean I got a one-off handjob from my high school girlfriend when I was sixteen, but that’s it.”

“Oh.” Wanda’s voice was small.  You couldn’t tell what she was thinking exactly as she stared at you.  Her head cocked to the side, a signature sign that she was deep in thought.  

“Sorry.  Umm, you know what?  I’ll just-I’ll just go.  Just forget everything I said, okay?”  You had never felt so humiliated before.  There was no way you could do anything with Wanda now.  You could barely look her in the eye with how embarrassed you felt.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your hand.  ��It’s okay.  We can wait until you’re ready.  I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do.  Ever.  I’m not mad or anything.”

“No I want to, I really want to.  I’m just nervous.  I don’t want it to be bad for you.”

Wanda flashed the smile that made you fall even harder for her.  “It’s okay to be nervous.  I haven’t slept with anyone since Vision left so yeah, I’m nervous, too.”

“I, umm, I didn’t bring a condom,” you sheepishly admitted.

“I’ve got some upstairs.”  You let out a small chuckle.  “What?”

“Nothing.  It’s just funny imagining you at the store with your reading glasses on trying to read the descriptions on all of the boxes.”

Wanda rolled her eyes as she sat up.  “You’re adorable.  Now come on, let’s go upstairs.  I am not letting you lose your virginity on this sofa.”

Wanda practically dragged you up to her bedroom and shut the door behind you.  Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the lock click into place.  “Come on,” she whispered as she pulled you to the bed.  “We can do whatever you want.”  Your mouth felt like it was filled with cotton as endless possibilities of what you and Wanda could do together flashed through your brain.  You tried to speak, but nothing came out.  “Can I take your clothes off?”  You nodded enthusiastically.  “Words, sweetheart.  I need you to say it for me.”

“Fuck yes,” you breathed as you pulled your shirt up and off.  She shook her head as her hands reached for your belt.  You grabbed her face and kissed her, pulling her close as you felt your jeans get the slightest bit looser.  As she unzipped them, she made sure to run her hand over your bulge, palming it through your jeans.  You moaned into her mouth at the throbbing sensation that was building in your pants.  

“Nice undies,” she teased.  Horrified, you realized that you were wearing your Pikachu boxer briefs.

“I’m gonna be completely honest, Wanda.  I was not anticipating you seeing me in my underwear tonight.”

“They’re cute, but I think they’ll look cuter on the floor.”  She hooked her thumbs around the waistband, dropping to the floor as she dragged them down your legs.  Your erection, absolutely throbbing, sprang to attention as it was freed from the confines of your clothes.  Standing there completely naked, you suddenly felt the need to cover up.  As Wanda looked up at you from her knees, she sensed your trepidation.  “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah, j-just give me a second.”

“Lie down on the bed, okay?  I’ve got an idea.”  You had no idea what Wanda was thinking as you crawled onto the bed.  As you did that, she began undressing herself.

“What are-?”

“Oh look, we’re both naked,” she smirked, tossing her panties behind her.  Your jaw dropped as you saw her naked for the first time.  The sight of her bare breasts in front of you was mesmerizing, as was the rest of her body.  She was a goddess.

“Wow.  Wanda, wow.  You’re gorgeous, baby.”  Wanda blushed a deep crimson as she crawled onto the bed next to you.  

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome,” she teased.  “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” you gulped.  Slowly, Wanda trailed her hand down from your chest down to your stomach and then to your cock, wrapping a loose grip around it.  “Oh fuck,” you groaned.  The sensation of her hand moving up and down your shaft was familiar: you’d jacked off to the thought of her countless times.  But the feeling of someone else’s hand doing it was unreal.

“Somebody’s sensitive.”  Your cock twitched under Wanda’s ministrations, precum leaking from your tip as she used it to lube you up.

“Christ, just blow me already,” you groaned as you threw your head back into the pillow.  The words came from your mouth absentmindedly.  They were crude and vulgar.  In your pleasure-filled haze, you weren’t totally aware of what you were saying.  The second you realized your ask, your face flushed red with embarrassment.  Wanda’s hand stopped abruptly as she looked down at you half-amused.  

“Alright,” she smirked.  Before you knew what was happening Wanda crawled to the other side of the bed, brushing her hair out of her face as she lowered her head.

The feeling of Wanda’s mouth enveloping the entirety of your cock immediately tore a loud groan from your chest.   She swirled her tongue over your head, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock.  Her cheeks hollowed as her head bobbed up and down.  You threw your head back into the pillow again, unable to watch the utterly sinful sight unfolding right in front of you.

“Holy shit,” you gasped.  Cherry red lips closed softly around your head, sucking as she reached down to squeeze your balls.  For a woman who hadn’t been with another man since her husband left, you couldn’t tell that she was out of practice.  Wanda smiled as you whined, your dick hitting the back of her throat.  Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she gagged on your length.  It was undoubtedly the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your entire life.

Your pulse quickened as the ache in your groin grew stronger with every little movement.  The pleasure was dizzying, the familiar coil in your belly growing tighter by the second.  As Wanda worked wonders with her mouth, your body became unrestrained.  You grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down as you thrust your hips into her face.  Drool dripped down your cock as you stuffed your length deep into Wanda’s mouth.  Her eyes screwed shut as she choked and gagged.  You moaned in response, your fingers kneading her fiery red hair.

“Wanda, I’m gonna cum,” you croaked as you felt a blissful warmth spread over your body.  She smirked against your cock as your hips bucked faster.  Her tongue swirled and lapped over every single inch as she enthusiastically massaged the parts left exposed.  Seconds later the coil snapped and your body exploded in ecstasy.  Strands of hot cum shot down Wanda’s throat, which she swallowed greedily.  No drop was left wasted as she released your with a pop, fine strands of saliva and cum connecting her to you.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath.  You closed your eyes as you watched galaxies and explosions appear under your closed lids.  

“Y/N?” You opened your eyes and Wanda’s face was hovering above yours.  

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I regain feeling in my legs,” you joked as you looked up into those adorable emerald eyes.  The beamed as she gazed down at you, caressing your flushed cheek with her soft hand.

“You’re adorable,” she cooed, planting a kiss on your forehead.  “I take it that was better than that handjob from your high school girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned.  Wanda chuckled as she kissed you, her soft lips full of passion and tenderness against your own.

“What now, lover boy?” she teased.

“I wanna taste you,” you breathed, pulling her head to yours before you kissed her softly.  “All of you.”

“Mmmm I like the sound of that,” Wanda giggled against your lips.  She rolled the two of you over, landing on her back as you let the weight of your body rest atop her.  

Your lips collided again and again as the anticipation of what was to come thrummed deep in your soul.  Wanda’s breath was shaky against your own as you slowly teased a hand down her body before resting it in the heat between her legs.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear.  Her eyes fixed on nothing on the ceiling, she nodded absentmindedly and reached her hand down to cover yours.  Her long svelte fingers pushed yours over her already swollen clit, circling them gently over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Like that,” she croaked.  You continued the motion as she released you.  Soft whimpers escaped her lips as you focused on circling her clit.  She grabbed onto your biceps, digging her nails into your flesh while you kissed her neck.  “Oh baby that’s it,” she gasped.  “Just a little more pressure and-”  Wanda’s breath hitched as you pushed on her clit.  As you circled it, you heard the lewd sounds of her wetness teasing just how aroused she was.

“Fuck, Wanda.  You’re so wet.”  She groaned as you teased your hand lower, rubbing your fingers through her swollen lips and teasing her slit.

“I want your mouth,” she begged as she grabbed your head and pushed it down your body.  You crawled down her body, kissing every inch of her exposed torso as you slunk down to her pelvis.  She squirmed as you planted hot open mouth kisses over her exposed flesh.  Pressing her thighs apart, you could feel the heat radiating from between them.  

“Wanda, what-?”

“Whatever you want.”  Her voice was dripping with arousal.  You weren’t quite sure where to start as you stared down at her glistening cunt.  Taking a deep breath, you lowered your mouth to her clit.  Your lips encircled the bulbous spot, sucking and licking in a manner similar to the way she sucked your cock.  The loud groan that escaped her lips made you think you were doing something right.  Wanda’s hips bucked against your face as you continued your alternating licking and sucking on her most sensitive spot.

Pushing her thighs down further, you lowered your head, licking a stripe from her clit all the way down her slit.  Her arousal coated your tongue and you found yourself getting drunk on the taste of her.  You teased her slit with your tongue, pressing it as far inside her as you could.

“Shit,” she groaned, grabbing your head and pushing it hard into her pelvis.  You smiled as you lapped at her.  The activity that once filled you with anxiety and hesitation now filled you with a sense of pride as you brought Wanda closer and closer to her orgasm.  “Need something inside,” she mumbled.  Kissing your way back to her clit, you tentatively inserted a finger inside her needy cunt.  She shuddered at the sudden intrusion.  You slowly began thrusting your hand in and out of her tight hole.  “Not like that,” she suddenly grabbed your hand as you pulled out.

“Am I hurting you?” Fear stopped you dead in your tracks as you looked up at Wanda with concern.

“Just curl your fingers, don’t thrust, keep going, I’m so close, baby.”  Wanda was beside herself with pleasure, her body closer to the edge.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just fuck me.”  Wanda shoved your head back down.  You went right to work, rolling her clit around with your tongue as you curled your finger inside.  Her walls tightened around you, making it difficult to move within her.  

“I’m cumming.  Oh, I’m cumming!” Wanda gasped as you felt her walls spasm around your hand.  Her body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook every inch of her.  Loud moans escaped her lips as her eyes screwed shut, her mouth gaping open with unspeakable pleasure.  

As Wanda’s spasms calmed, you pulled out of her.  Her walls squeezed around nothing as it adjusted to the sudden lack of intrusion.  Wanda was flat on her back, completely blissed out at the first orgasm she received at the hands of another person in a very long time.  Masturbation only did so much for her.  The level of intimacy and trust required for someone to bring her to such levels of ecstasy was something on a completely different level.

“Wanda?  Are you okay, babe?”  Her eyes were glazed over as she needed, her hands tracing through your hair.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” 

“I’ll take that as a complement,” you joked before kissing her.  You stared down at her, at the face of the woman you were slowly falling in love with, and wanted nothing more than to make her feel so unbelievably loved.  The face that gazed back up at you mirrored the love and adoration that you felt for her.  For the first time in a very long time, you were grateful for the fact that your first time was with someone who meant so much to you.

“Do you want to keep going?” Wanda whispered, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Mmhmm.  Do you?”  She nodded.  “Where’d you put the condoms?” Wanda motioned to the nightstand next to her.  You pulled the drawer open and grabbed one.  “Umm, I’ve never-”

“That’s okay.  Let me help.”  Wanda grabbed the small wrapper from you, tearing it open before grabbing your already erect cock.  Heart pounding and breath shaking, you watched her roll it down the length of your shaft.  “How’s that?”

“It feels weird, but it’s not too tight or anything like that.”

“Good.”  She readjusted herself on the bed, planting her feet on the bed and bending her knees to give you full access to her already dripping pussy.  “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.  Positioning yourself over her, you lined your cock up with her entrance.  Your body trembled with anticipation, sweat beading on your forehead as you suddenly felt yourself overwhelmed with nervousness.  Wanda, once again sensing your hesitation, reached down and helped guide you inside her.

Wanda’s pussy was unfathomably warm, wet and tight.  It took all your concentration to not blow your load right then and there.  You groaned as you felt her squeeze gently around you.  “Fuck,” you moaned, burying your head in the crook of her neck.  

“Mmm, you feel so good, Y/N,” she sighed.  It took a moment to get yourself together, but once you did you began to slowly thrust yourself in and out.  Gasps and moans filled the room as Wanda’s drenched cunt squelched with every roll of your hips.

“Wanda,” you groaned.  “Oh, Wanda.”

“Don’t stop, Y/N.  Please don’t stop.”  Wanda’s mewls spurred you on.  You pushed yourself up, leaning over her as you filled her up at a faster pace.  The bed groaned under your exertion.

“Baby, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you gritted through clenched teeth.  The newness of being engulfed inside Wanda’s velvety walls was driving you to the end far faster than you wanted.

“That’s okay,” she breathed.  “Just keep going.  I want you to cum for me, sweetheart.”  

Wanda’s words ignited a primal fire inside you.  Wiping the sweat away from your forehead, you bore down on your efforts.  Your hips bucked wildly into Wanda.  She moaned as you buried yourself deep inside her, filling her cunt in all the right ways as she began rubbing circles around her swollen clit.  The bed creaked as you fucked her relentlessly.  The faster your hips moved, the hotter the fire in your belly burned until you realized you were dangerously close to the point of no return.

“I’m gonna-” You were interrupted by Wanda reaching her free hand up to your neck and pulling you down to capture your lips in hers.  As she kissed you passionately, you tumbled over the edge again.  Her lips stifled your moan as you filled the condom with your seed.  The feeling of your erection throbbing inside her, coupled with her hand on her clit, sent Wanda over the edge as she practically screamed through her orgasm.  Her walls squeezed you tightly.  You were practically seeing stars.

“Oh fuck.  Wanda.  Fuck, oh fuck.  Oh God, Wanda,” you panted as the aftershocks of your orgasm worked their way through your body.  Your pants turned into laughs as she began laughing with you.

“Was that okay?” Wanda asked with a chuckle.

“Okay?  I don’t think ‘okay’ is the word I used to describe what just happened.”

“You have a better word, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know.  All I know is that I love you,” you mumbled absentmindedly as you collapsed onto her sweaty body.

“...What?”

“I…sorry, is it too soon?  Did I just make this weird?”  Wanda answered with a searing kiss, the corners of her mouth curved upward as she grabbed your face.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she sheepishly admitted, her face flushing bright crimson.  

“God, I love you, Wanda.  I love you so much.”  Your last sentence was interrupted with kisses between every word.

“I love you, too, Y/N.  Don’t ever let me go.” 

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 5)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Story Summary: The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

Chapt Setting: The Farm/Woods

Chapt Warnings: pretty explicit drug use (meth), season 2 Daryl, degrading/sexist language (he’s starting to get better lol), SOPHIA CHAPTER (I think that deserves a warning)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Daryl’s POV story. Daryl’s starting to be less of a dick, trying really hard to make it feel organic/make it make sense in the story. Idk. This chapter was really rough to write because… it made me sad. Also have no idea if it even makes sense (the hallucination bit, really hope it does) lol ALSO; I looked up some timeline stuff and i just?? Really thought Daryl was out there for days on his own? But apparently he wasn’t? We’re just gonna say that he is in this story. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I can only do so much when the timeline of TWD is fucking stupid sometimes. (I mean it. Come for me. Idc. Rick was in a coma for 59 days without food or water???!?!!!? Bye)

masterlist

17+ mdni (no smut in this one tho sorry)

Like fiberglass in my veins, it tears through me. Mellow, at first, almost think I should rail more before I can feel myself sweatin’. Different kinda sweat, comin’ from my fuckin’ soul. 

Haven’t felt like I was doin’ something ‘wrong’ since I was little. That feeling that ch’ya get when you’re doin’ somethin’ ya know you’re not s’possed to. This ain’t the first time I done spazz, but maybe it’ll be the last. The anxiety about doin’ it goes away the second I feel the devil kick me through my nose to the back of my brain. Even though I know it’s comin’, it always feels like gettin’ skullfucked by satan. 

Been out here for a day. I brought Merle’s shit with me because I decided to finally get rid of it somewhere. But I got somethin’ that needs doin’. And anyway, I got years of experience with ice. Not doin’ it. Sometimes doin’ it. Never let Merle know, he’d’ve made some big whoop ‘bout it. And everytime he’d gone and done more than he remembered, he woulda blamed me. Shit though, sometimes it was. 

M’not like Merle and Beatle. Ain’t an addict. Can do shit and put it down. Always been able to put it down. Figured other people could too, that they just didn’t wanna. ‘m not sure, but still kinda think that. 

Never felt fuckin’ guilty about it before, though. Fuckin’ Beatle. I’unno if it’s cuz I’d be done with her if she did the same shit, or if it’s cuz I know if she knew that I was - she’d be mad at me. Mad I didn’t invite ‘er. 

But this shit ain’t for fuckin’ playtime. Only reason ‘m even doin’ it i’so I can find Sophia. So I can stay awake, focus, and get ‘er back. They use ta use this shit in war. War’s the reason methamphetamines even exist. Nazi’s? Hell, every single one of ‘em in WWII. Kamikazi’s loaded up, totally fuckin’ wasted outta their minds on crystal while they bolted ‘em in. Kept ‘em awake, kept ‘em happy, kept ‘em focused on the mission. Tha’s what I gotta do. 

I can’t stop lookin’ til I find ‘er. Sophia. ‘m the only one that can, only one that knows how. And anymore, ‘m the only one that seems to give a shit. ‘Sides Carol. And Beatle. She wanted ta come. Told her she’d only slow me down. Distract me. Drawn more geeks. She woulda. Told her I didn’t need food either but she packed me some anyway. Knew I wasn’t gonna be hungry. Knew I was gonna use this dumb shit to help. But whatever. 

Doesn’t matter what happens to me, right? My life’s not worth nothin’, not compared to that little girl. Now that her old man’s outta the picture she actually got a chance. Maybe not mucha one, not the way shit is these days. But she got ‘er mom. And ‘er mom can actually be ‘er mom now. Not scared of some piece’a shit prick that finally got what was comin’ to ‘im. 

Man fuck that guy.

The trail I’m followin’ disappears so I backtrack to the mangroves where I found her doll and try to find another one. 

I start to wonder what kinda old man Beatle had. What kinda mom? Startin’ ta realize I don’t know a damn thing about Beatle. I know she likes drinkin’, she likes laughin’, she likes fuckin’ with me. But… 

Beatle keeps surprisin’ me. Not just because she let me hump her face a few days ago, the fact that she liked it, shit I haven’t even had a second to process that. Nah, more cuz she hasn’t brought it up. Hasn’t tried to hold my hand again. Hasn’t been annoyin’ me nearly as much. Not even at all, if ‘m honest. 

My brain’s goin’ a million miles a fuckin’ second over Beatle and what happened between us. Not just the other night, but back then. Got questions that need answerin’ but she ain’t here. Try to keep myself occupied with trackin’ but it ain’t like trackin’ takes much thinkin’. Follow every trail I pick up, but none of ‘em lead me to Sophia. 

I’d prob’ly start gettin’ really frustrated about this, but that’s what crystals good for. All the dopamine I need, and nothin’s annoyin’. Focus.

✨🏹 

Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, walker guts. Trees and rocks and blood and mud and dirt and greens and browns and reds and blacks. And it’s dark and it’s light and it’s dark. And it smells fuckin’ rotten. Bent branches, wilted leaves, another trail, another dead end, another undead shithead. Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, Beatle. 

How many times did I go into Merle’s bag and take the devils dick up my nose? Cuz Beatle’s standin’ here right in front of me. ‘Cept she’s all done up in makeup and glitter and her pupils are the size of dimes. Little pink crop top, tiniest pair’a daisy dukes I ever seen. ‘n she’s in my face sayin’ the shit I been thinkin’ about her sayin’ since that day she said it. 

“I like you, Dar.” 

“You like bein’ fucked up more.” I say it like I said it the last time. 

“That’s not true! I mean - I like you, Daryl.” She steps closer, tries to put her hand on my cheek before I brush her off. She slumps back a little, turning away. “You like me, too. You said it.” 

My hearts in my fuckin’ throat and I’m standin’ there, this can’t be fuckin’ happening. I know is’not but doesn’t make it feel any less real. “Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle.” 

Hate that I said that to ‘er. Did I really say that? Cuz maybe that’s how I felt. Hell, maybe that’s how I felt last week. But it ain’t fair. I don’t know her. Still. Now. Don’t know ‘er at all. Thought I did. Thought I understood what kinda girl did those kindsa things. Is that really what I said? Fuck.

She’s still turned away from me, but I walk the half circle around to look at her face. And she’s sobbing. Silently, trying to stay as still as possible. I… I don’t remember this part. Maybe I didn’t see it? Nah, I saw it. Just didn’t care. Didn’t wanna look at ‘er. Didn’t want to hear her lame ass confession. Especially after she’d brought up that I told ‘er I liked ‘er. She sniffles and wipes her face before she pulls a bubble pipe out of the waistband of her shorts and lights the bottom, starts smokin’ it. She asks if I want a hit, like last time. 

I go to say no, but the words don’t come out. Instead my hand reaches for it. I look back up and Beatle’s dressed all different. Baggy jeans and a bikini top. That night. Fuck. Shit. I don’t want to relive that night. 

“I promise, I won’t tell Merle.” She says, handing me her lighter. And I smoke it. Inhaling the vapor slowly like she had. “You gotta sip at it, like it’s a coffee and you’re drinking the air to see if it’s still too hot. Roll the bowl or it will burn.” I do it the way she says. She’s like ten years younger than me, but she looks at me - talks to me like it don’t matter. Like she don’t see it that way. Guess I don’t either, never really did. 

I’d never wanted to smoke it before. But that night I wanted to. With her. Woulda done anything she’d asked that night ‘fore she ruined it. I ruined it. Til it got all fucked up an’ it was never the same again. Not the way I saw her, not the way she looked at me. 

I’m goin’ through memories like they’re happening all over again. Feelin’ fuckin’ sick. I don’t wanna remember this. 

I hand the pipe back to her and she asks, “How do you feel?” 

“Fine.” 

“Just fine?” She smiles. 

“Good.” I clarify. 

“Good.” 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “I think I like you, Beatle.” 

She laughs too hard, “you think?” I feel myself getting sicker and angry again all at once. 

I split in half. One half feelin’ those same feelings I felt. That this conceited fuckin’ bitch really acts like everyone likes her. I hear her words and it sounds like she’s sayin’ ‘well obviously’ - but the other halfa me hears it like a real question. Like she wanted ta know what I meant. I don’t remember how I responded then, but I can hear myself say it, “Self-obsessed cunt.” 

Beatle laughs, “Is that what you like about me?” 

My misunderstanding continues; Thought she was pickin’ on me. Makin’ funna me. All these years. All this time. Thought she was fuckin’ laughin’ at me. Never told a girl I liked her. Not that I never did like one, just never told ‘em. Not like some teenage fuckin’ confessional. And I do and what?  she just laughs.  

Shit. 

Cuz inside ‘m screaming. Screamin’ at myself ta say somethin’ different. To jus’ tell her. She’s special, she’s exciting, and when she smiles at the shit I say it makes me feel like I’m the only one in the fuckin’ world to her. Tha’s what she wants ta here. Tha’s why she’s askin’. 

“Nah. Forget it.” She nods, and I thought she did forget it.  She forgot until she brings it up again in the memory I already re-lived. 

Tha’s how I was so damn sure she didn’t give a single shit about if I liked her or not. Didn’t bring it up again for months. Didn’t give a single shit about me at all. Felt stupid for ever thinkin’ she might. Just a dumb crush on a dumb girl, and I forgot everything about it. An’ every little thing she did that made me like ‘er ended up as somethin’ else I hated.  And every time I saw her after that she was fucked up on somethin’. Meth or booze or weed. Usually all three. 

It comes at me like a fuckin’ freight train, her lips crashing into mine, but this time I want it. Don’t wanna stop kissin’ ‘er. Instead my arms move and I push her down to the ground. She’s wearing the crop top again, can tell she’d been cryin’. She’s layin’ there in the rocks lookin’ up at me and I flash back to the living room where this happened, where she’d told me she liked me back. I wanna beat the shit outta myself for makin’ her look like that. 

How didn’t I see it? 

I did see it. I just didn’t care. Thought I knew what kinda girl did those kinds’a things. 

Wonderin’ what kind of old man she had. What kinda boyfriends before she met me. How maybe she’s just as fuckin’ scared’a feelin’ stuff as I am. How maybe it took her months to even get up the courage to tell me after I’d told ‘er never mind and slowly started to hate her. How many’a those drinks were for courage? How many’a those hits were cuz she was nervous?

Shit. 

And she’s runnin’ away like she did then. Away from me an’ outta my life until a few weeks ago. I know it ain’t real but I run after her anyway. Screamin’ her name into the open air like maybe somehow I can change it if I can get her to come back. But she’s gone and ‘m still running tryin’ to find her. Screaming for her ‘til my throats hoarse. 

‘Til the walkers hear me. 

✨🏹

Andrea fuckin’ shot me. What is wrong with this fuckin’ group?

✨🏹

Beatle’s in the bedroom with me but I can’t look at ‘er. Don’t wanna. Feels like she knows what I was doin’ out in them woods without ‘er. Like she can see the dirty shit in my soul and for some reason it makes me ill. Can’t look at ‘er. Knowin’ I hurt ‘er like that all that time ago. Knowin’ it now like I ain’t ever known anything else. 

It’s just me ‘n her and she doesn’t try to talk to me. Just lets me lay there hatin’ myself for all of it. Didn’t even find Sophia. 

Spent a lot of my days in my life hatin’ myself. Thinkin’ I was good for nothin’. Now ‘m sure of it. 

I feel the bed move under the weight of her. She hugs herself around me, and like some pathetic kid I fuckin’ cry. Don’t know if she can tell or not but she tries comforting me anyway. “It’s okay, Dar. You did your best.” Her voice… how could I have ever thought it was annoying? Her bein’ so nice just makes me hate myself more. 

“Lea‘me alone, Beatle.” Shakin’ her arm out from around me. She gets off the bed and sits back in the chair she’d been in. God, I fuckin’ hate myself. Wanna scream No, come back. I didn’t mean it. 

Still got question’s that need answerin’. This time Beatles right here, and I ain’t got nothin’ to lose. “Why were you naked in Merle’s room?” Grateful that she’s sittin’ behind me. Don’t think I could talk to ‘er ‘bout this stuff if she was lookin’ at me. Right now? If I saw her face? Don’t think I could talk at all. 

She laughs. Fuck her stupid fuckin’ laugh. “I still can’t believe you think I fucked around with Merle.” 

“Why not? Y’all hung out every other day.” My voice is sharp, feels like she’s laughin’ at me again. Always feels like everyone’s laughin’ at me. 

“We all hung out every other day, Dar.” 

“Stop callin’ me tha’.” 

“I was carpet surfing. Your dumbass brother spilled all the schkag all over the damn place.” 

Oh…. But, “Ya didn’t have any clothes on.” 

“I never had any clothes on, Daryl. You sure I wasn’t just wearing something ‘slutty’? You know, like you always said I was? Cuz I don’t remember, but I’ve never been naked with Merle. Ever. Sounds fuckin’ gross.”

Oh. 

It made sense. Makes so much sense, ‘specially now. She keeps talkin’ an’ ‘m grateful cuz if I tried to say anything else I’d start fuckin’ cryin’ again. “I liked you, man. I…” she stops herself. Wanna beg her to keep goin’ but I can’t. 

Instead I ask ‘er the only question I got left, “Why’d ya leave, then? Ya left ‘n ya never came back.” 

She’s silent for a long time. “When you and Merle moved, where’d you go?” 

She did come back. 

“Why’d ya leave, Beatle?” Doesn’t matter where Merle and I went. She’s avoidin’ the question. 

“Got sober. After that night… with you. Wanted to get sober. Wanted to…” she don’t say the rest but she don’t need to. I got it. Fuck, my heart can’t take it. 

“Cuz I said ya liked gettin’ fucked up more than ya liked me.” It ain’t a question. I know. 

“Think it was more the other thing you said.” 

Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle. I can still taste the words. “Shouldn’t’a said that to ya.” My voice is barely a whisper. 

She gets back up on the bed and puts her arm around me again, this time I don’t shake her away. Her voice, so close to my ear, “I didn’t want to tell you that I came back. I didn’t want you to know that I got sober for you.” 

What? “Why not?” 

“Wasn’t sure you’d care. And if you did… I didn’t want you to have all the what-ifs in your head that I have in mine.” 

She hugs herself into me so tight it’s hard to breathe, and she tells me, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

I feel guilty, can’t take any of that back. Can’t make any of it better. I don’t deserve this. Her. After all the nasty shit I ever thought about her. After what I did to her the other night. I can’t bring myself to tell her to leave cuz I know she wants to be here. Don’t wanna make her cry again. 

So I let her hold me. Even though I don’t fuckin’ deserve it. 

[rafesbabygirlx]

In Loving Memory of JJ

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Summary: Months after losing JJ, you're finally ready to step into the house you grew up in with him and go through some items to hold as keepsakes for Vivienne. A drabble from my series A Lot of Time has Passed.

A/N: what's the point of my series if I don't make a post honoring JJ. I'm gonna miss him so much next season. :(

Warnings: nothing but sadness

The afternoon sun streamed through the worn curtains of JJ bedroom, casting soft, golden rays across the room. Dust particles floated lazily in the beams, their slow dance almost reverent in the quiet space. The room felt frozen in time—the bed unmade, fishing rods propped up in the corner, and his favorite cap hanging on the bedpost, the fabric frayed at the brim from countless adventures under the relentless Carolina sun. You haven’t been back in your house since you’ve gotten back from hunting Groff. It’s been months and you’ve finally brought yourself to make it past the driveway. You’d make Rafe turn back home every time before. 

You sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, old floorboards creaking beneath your weight, with Vivienne perched on your lap. She toyed with the hem of her dress, eyes wide and curious as she took in the room, so full of memories and stories she was too young to remember. You glanced down at her, into her bright blue eyes, of course she got them from Rafe, but the softness in them always reminded you so much of JJ’s and that it made your heart ache. You knew you needed to tell her who he was—the uncle she would never grow up and make memories with but should always remember him for exactly who he was. Even if she didn’t quite understand now. You’d have no problem telling her over and over again as she grew. 

“This,” you said, voice wavering as you picked up a cracked Polaroid photo from the pile of belongings scattered on the floor, “is my favorite photo of your Uncle J. The bravest, wildest, most loyal person I’ve ever known.” The picture showed JJ at the Boneyard, grinning from ear to ear with his arms thrown around John B and Pope. They looked carefree, a trio bound by loyalty and a brotherhood forged by the rough edges of life on the Cut.

“He liked treasure,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her, the memory carrying you back to the nights JJ would burst through the door with sand still clinging to his skin, eyes bright with excitement as he spun wild tales of their latest adventure. “He and his friends—they were always searching for something. Gold, yes, but it was more than that. They wanted freedom, something better than what the island wanted to give them.”

Your daughter’s tiny fingers reached for the Polaroid, and you let her hold it, watching as she inspected the faded image with a solemnity that seemed far beyond her years.

“He was strong,” you said, eyes drifting to the board in the corner with notes pinned haphazardly—maps scrawled with routes, plans for the next great scheme. “He fought hard for the people he loved. He would’ve protected you, sweetheart. He would’ve made you laugh until your sides hurt and taken you out on the boat, showing you the stars and telling you stories about them.”

Your gaze shifted to the corner of the room where an old motorcycle helmet sat, its surface scratched and worn. “And he loved motorbikes,” you added, a soft smile breaking through the grief. “He’d ride that old bike down to the beach with the wind in his hair, reckless and free. It was his escape, his way of feeling alive when the weight of everything got too heavy.” You could almost hear the roar of the engine, the laughter that followed as he raced down backroads with John B chasing behind, whooping with joy.

“He said there was nothing like it,” you continued, eyes misty as you remembered his words. ‘When you’re on the bike, it’s just you and the road, like the world falls away.’”

A knot formed in your throat as you lifted a small shark tooth necklace from the pile, one JJ had worn more days than not. You placed it gently around your daughter’s neck, the string almost comically large on her tiny frame. She looked up at you, wide-eyed and confused, and you smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“He used to say,” you continued, voice breaking, ‘It’s us against the world, always.’” You brushed her curls away from her face and kissed her forehead. “And even though he’s not here, I hope you carry that with you. Be brave, be kind, and always look out for your friends—just like he did.”

The room fell into a peaceful silence, the echoes of JJ’s laughter seeming to hang in the air. Your daughter leaned back against you, clutching the Polaroid tightly. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your brother’s life—the sand, the sea, and the stories—you knew that JJ’s spirit would always be with you both, carried in the stories you told and the memories you kept alive.

You didn’t notice Rafe standing in the doorway, watching you as you wiped away your tears. When you stood up, holding Vivienne in your arms and packing a box of things you wanted to keep, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was strong and steady, and as you buried your face in his chest, the weight of your grief spilled over. He held you tightly, silently, as you cried into his chest for what felt like forever, until the room felt a little less empty.

When the moment passed and your tears had run dry, he followed you outside, where the Pogues were waiting. They stood together, their expressions heavy with shared sorrow. You couldn’t find the words, but they understood, their eyes speaking the silent language of loss.

Rafe took a breath and stepped forward. “I know you don’t like me,” he began, his voice steady but raw. “I know you don’t like having me around. But JJ’s gone, and I need you to know that Y/N  and Vivienne mean everything to me. I want you here, as much as you’ll allow it. To keep his memory alive for her. To be the aunts and uncles she needs—not by blood, but by choice.”

The group listened, their guarded expressions softening. “Thank you,” Rafe said, glancing at each of them. “Thank you for being the people you are, for being there for her. She’s lucky to grow up with you all around.”

A quiet nod from John B, a watery smile from Kie, and the unspoken promise of family settled between you all. You mouth them a grateful, “thank you” for not only being there for you but for listening to Rafe. In that moment, the weight of grief shifted, just a little, shared by those who loved JJ the most.

[spookykoolkat]

the red j.m. | chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR: NO GOOD

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previous chapter | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: you've been in jackson for a month now and things are still a little rough. you haven't found the right crowd to fit into yet, and thought maybe you might have to settle for the family of four you already know, until you meet your patrol partner, tyler. unfortunately, joel doesn't seem to like the idea of you with any other man but him.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, slight jealous!joel, x-rated descriptions, crude language, perv!joel, creepy!joel, mean joel not too mean tho, MDNI!!!

wc: 6.2k

na: HI! thank you for alllll of the love oh my god my little gothic heart is so full i love you guys!!! i hope this series is everything and more to you guys bc i love this so much! hopefully as chapters go by, i get better in my writing and hope everyone enjoys it! i appreciate all of your kind words and interactions with me and making me feel welcome since i am new to writing on tumblr and kind of took a six year break from writing oneshots/fanfictions LOL. anyways please enjoy this chapter things are g3tting a little hot and heavy :P I CANT WAITT i hope that my writing is cathartic for my big girls we do not get enough representation for us in stories and writings!please enjoy! smut coming soon fr fr LMFAOO

i appreciate all reblogs, likes and comments feel free to do any one of those things or ALL! if u think its deserved :P

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

DECEMBER 21ST, 2024

YOU

you’ve been in jackson for a month now. you couldn’t believe it, you truly had every doubt about staying even a week. but, it’s probably the calmest life you’ve lived in a very long time. you enjoyed it and you truly felt you’d made the right decision, it didn’t take much convincing either. but, you still haven’t unpacked the items maria gave you and continues to give you. just in case. 

the neighbors are learning your name, as you are with them, and they actually care. as much as you let them. you felt quite bad because you found yourself still not clicking with anyone around you. and you’ve tried. the people your age find you boring, almost a dark cloud over them, bursting their bubbles. younger kids only approach you because of ellie, asking for advice on stance and grip. the older group, around tommy and joel’s age, finds you a bit much. 

your language, your lack of social awareness–sometimes it gets embarrassing. saying something old heads wouldn’t necessarily like, being too blunt and a little explicit. joel figured you should hang around your age group, yet you didn’t really click in with the rest. he was far from embarrassed being around you, you just said the things he was thinking out loud.

you only found yourself clicking with joel. in many ways, as much as he let you. he was standoffish most of the time, barely cracking a smile at your weird habits and the noises you make when you’re passed out on the couch. he refused to let you break him, this wall that he had up to survive. do not get attached. he thought, maybe the less he knew you the less it’d hurt to have anything happen to you. but it seems even as little as he does know you, he’s still feeling that tug at his heart laying his eyes on you. 

it was too late. whoops.

joel doesn’t want to address that feeling, and he doesn’t want to call it as it is. he actually cares about you. he had no choice but to call it that, because why else would he lie to you about finding cassettes in the house?— so that you didn’t know what he really did to get you whatever he could get his hands on. 

he didn’t want you to know that he actually smuggled in goods that he and his family needed, and while bribing, stealing, trading and selling for necessities, he made it a mission to find at least one cassette tape for you. he didn’t know you actually saw him red handed, and you still didn’t know where those boxes were coming from. he figured if you knew, you’d bring it up. 

he made it his mission for two whole weeks, after your first week of staying with him, and finally got his hands on some actual music for you. joel hadn’t made efforts like this in a long time, and he knew that denying the fact that he at least cared for you would mean he was being delusional. 

but he was always worried about you. you were his object of affection and he craved to find a way to get you out of his mind. he actually felt guilty for thinking about you in ways you’ve probably never been before, he felt guilty for wanting nothing but to make you feel good—however that was. 

you doubted it strongly of course, shaking the feeling off as your own delusion and insanity, but you always hoped. hoped that maybe his generosity and southern hospitality was actually him caring about you in a different way, but he was a grown man. you tried to off yourself in front of him–you were insane to think he’d even look at you as anything but a liability, he hardly looked your way as it was. 

at least you thought so.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

joel paid attention to every single thing he sees and hears. he doesn’t show it, he doesn’t acknowledge it—all he does is observe. some more than others. 

you didn’t talk to him unless he talked to you, you kept your distance like he wanted, but somehow he knew everything that was going on. he didn’t have to talk to you to know you, and that’s what he was ashamed of. he watched you. 

he was a creep, he felt like someone who was abnormal and making things weirder than they had to be. he was studying you and you didn’t even know. he picked up on what made you smile, which cassettes you listened to the most, which just so happened to be the ones he was ‘holding on to.’ and in the midst of observing you, he checked you out any time he got. 

when you weren’t looking mostly, but even sometimes when you were talking to him about something not so important. he realized that if you did see that his eyes wandered over you, you were probably gaslighting yourself into thinking he wasn’t doing exactly what you thought he was doing. he loved your body. and he loved the way you dressed your body, the way the shirts you wore always clung to your heavy breasts, how even when you dressed in baggy clothes he still wanted to ruin you like that. 

sick. you’re a sick old pervert, ya kno’ that? he knew. what joel didn’t know is why you made him feel this way, why you drove him to do the things that he does for you. why he acted feral every time you bent over, why he would storm out of the room when you got on your hands and knees to pick something you dropped up off the floor. 

but he also studied you because he wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling how you felt the night you woke up in jackson, to make sure you weren’t feeling depressed or like you didn’t want to be here anymore. just talk to her fucker. he couldn’t. he would never admit it, but he’s eavesdropped near ellie’s garage to hear conversations between the two girls. 

“ellie, i mean it, you cannot tell joel.” you hushed as you glanced towards the door, back to ellie. 

she scoffed. “like i’d tell him, lay it on me.” you noticed the irritation in her eyes when you brought up joel, asking yourself if maybe there was something that wasn’t being said. you just put a pin in it. 

“okay. one, i’m finally allowed a gun and i got my patrol route.” you cheered in a hush and joel almost pressed his ear into the door. 

ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the piece of paper. “no fucking fair. good looks, telling me bad news first. what’s two?” she joked. 

“i met my patrol partner. his name’s uh, tyler? i think. yeah,” you looked down and nodded, assuring yourself. joel made it a note to tell ellie how thin her walls were, not right now though. 

“tyler… tyler m?” joel thought of every man in this town named tyler with the letter M as his last name. instantly made a mental list of five tylers. 

“i don’t know. but he asked me for a drink. tonight, he was gonna meet me here but i told him i’d meet him there. lesson number 5, always have a way to leave anywhere you are if you need to.” you said. you figured it’d be best to teach her as much as you could, telling her things she needed to hear to survive. 

that’s how joel knew immediately what was happening when he heard your soft singing from your cracked door. you were getting ready for him. he actually hated it. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that heat in his chest, biting the tongue—it wasn’t until his face turned down into the old familiar feeling, what he recognized as jealousy. 

who was he to be jealous? for what? it was a saturday night, most people were off of work, and everyone was settling in the town’s circle to drink and watch movies. everyone but joel. he was now classified as a bitter old man, with a dark whiskey in his glass. maybe now a bitter, creepy old man as he knocks slightly on the cracked door and you invite him in. 

you were fixing the laces on your shoes, simple black converse, and his eyes made his way up from there to your face. a deep v neck shirt that looked like a second skin from how tight it was, and faded black jeans with tiny holes from being lived in that hugged the fat of your thighs. he never noticed the gold dainty necklace that sat in the middle of your chest, but it sits right between the curves of your breasts. were they always that big? he felt like a kid, ogling and asking stupid questions.  

“hellooo? joel?” you called to him as you rested your palms on the width of your thighs. he saw your lips, coated in a sheen and your hair split down the middle instead of being in a pony tail or bun. creepy old man. you’re being creepy joel!!! he shook his head. 

“headin’ to the circle?” he asked. if he were close enough you could smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“yeah i-,” you thought for a minute. joel didn’t trust the next person as much as you did. you saw his protectiveness through ellie, you felt maybe he’d feel the same for you. even if you were a bit delusional. 

“-was gonna catch a movie with ellie, most likely be back around 12.” you said as you glanced at the clock, 9:32. 

“‘s that right?” he said suggestively, like he knew something you didn’t. he did. 

“yeah. that’s right,” you stood firm, even shot him a dirty look. “why don’t you enjoy the night, joel. you got the house to yourself, ain’t that what you’ve been mopin’ around for?” you stood up and grabbed your gun to put in your waistband behind your shirt, sticking a knife in your high top converse and one in your jean pocket. 

maybe you got too defensive, but you were right in a way. he looked miserable around the house, storming in just to grab a beer and lock himself in the library or room. 

“that’s right,” he was just smug. so smug you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to slap him. 

“whatever joel,” you wanted to be right so bad. you wanted to prove to even yourself that you were right. but neither of you were buying into this act you played, and you knew it. he was making you nervous with his stare, the hard shell you had was practically ripped off of you when he grabbed your wrist before you left the room. he held you, shoulder to shoulder and looked at your face, down your neck and to your chest. 

“if you need anythin’, you let me know darlin’.” darlin’? it was so foreign to you, so alien that you didn’t even have time to process it before your mouth moved to say a small alright and taking your arm from his grip. when you did, it was cold and you could feel the print of his hand around your wrist down the stairs. 

it was so different, something that leaked off of his words when he spoke to you. and you wanted to hear more of it, explore that with him. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

before you could psych yourself out of going through the bar’s doors, you heard someone call for your name and turned your head to the left to see tyler, walking towards you with a big grin on his face. tyler was just two years older than you, someone you met while you were in combat and patrol classes, and didn’t acknowledge until he approached you, re-introducing himself as your partner for the first two weeks. you couldn’t be cold and shoo him away, you just smiled and introduced yourself, really looking at him. 

he was not joel miller. tyler’s skin wasn’t as tan as joel’s but he wasn’t pale, and he was actually a bit lanky even under the thick coats he layered. you noticed that his chest wasn’t as broad and strong as joel’s, hell his arms were smaller than yours. he was a skinny tall thing, while you were a bit short and thick everywhere. and when he embraced you lightly at the entrance of the bar, you just felt cold. no warmth, no comfort, you felt like you’d break him. 

“hey, i was hoping you’d actually come.” he breathed in as he pulled away, still, it wasn’t feeling right. 

“why wouldn’t i?” 

“cause you’re out of my league,” he said with a seductive smile and you wanted to believe him. wanted to enjoy the night as it comes and maybe have a few drinks, talk. but your mind was on a bitter man who sat in a house all by his lonesome. 

the thing about ‘dates’ now is that small talk doesn’t happen anymore. what’s your mom like? she’s dead actually. really? mine too! it was pointless. if you ended up here, you knew that you were alone. 

it wasn’t long before you and tyler were sitting on two stools, side by side. your knees were in between his as the two of you talked, flirted, gave simple touches. you were having fun. doing what would seem normal at a bar, just enjoying the company of someone who actually liked you. 

“how come you’ve never hung out with anyone else? i never see you with anyone.” he said, his fingers tapping on your knee. 

“mmm, i’m just not for everyone.” you flirted, covering his fingers with yours. you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, but you’d like to live in it just a little longer. the touch of a man, someone who desired you even if it wasn’t how you wanted. something you started to crave from joel. 

“maybe you’re just for me then?” he suggested, and you decided to just play into it. it was kind of hard not to when you were thinking of joel, you needed to act out on it. 

“i doubt that, honey,” you said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. he smelled like tequila and grass, something not that appealing but you ignore it. you wanted something out of him tonight, because for some reason the words joel spoke to you kept ringing in your ears. if you need anything, you let me know darlin’. the words rumbled through your body and straight to your core, because if there’s anything you need he could definitely be of help. 

you didn’t know how long you stayed at this bar, teasing and touching each other until you felt the ache in your core, aching for a touch that you’ve had once before. but you didn’t give a shit about purity or virginity, you wanted the ache gone and you knew tyler was the best bet. 

“tyler,” you whispered in his ear as the bar started to empty. 

“yes, beautiful?” he answered and slid his hand up your thigh. 

“show me how good you are with your fingers, yeah?” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

he followed you back to joel’s, hand in hand as you turned the key to the house and softly opened the door to prevent the creaking. granted, you didn’t think this through, like everything else. maybe you should’ve gone to his. you cringed a bit, walking inside. 

it was dark inside, nothing but the sizzle of a freshly put out fire. you put your fingers to your lips to shush him, taking him slowly upstairs and to your room. you couldn’t help but find yourself glancing at joel’s door, which is cracked open. 

you finally made it to your room with the lanky man groping your body and trying to slither you out of your jeans, letting him. 

“only want your fingers, okay? if not you can leave.” you established as you stood in your panties and tight shirt. 

“fuck, yeah that’s okay,” tyler himself was craving a woman’s touch, he didn’t even care if he got off. he just wanted to see you, a woman’s body, to feel you. 

“can i touch you? like anywhere?” he asked as he sat on the edge of your bed, his cock already hardened against his pants. it didn’t sound right coming from him. you wondered what it’d sound like with the texas twang you craved to hear from a certain man. 

it still made your core twinge a bit, remembering the last time you were this vulnerable. you couldn’t lie, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you fell in to the odd touch of the man desperately trying to touch you. 

“anywhere. keep your dick in your pants, i’ll touch as i go if you want me to.” you moved over to him and crawled into your bed, and he slipped in next to you as he propped himself on his elbow to look at you. 

“you’re so pretty, really.” he said, genuinely and you smiled. your stomach even fluttered a bit. it’s been a long time hearing that, hearing desire. 

“touch me, please.” 

tyler took his time, a little more than you’d liked but he was busy distracted with the way your tits pushed up to your chin, like you were suffocating. touching and teasing, his touch felt good but it still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel heartstopping. maybe you’re expecting too much. 

but he didn’t talk to you when he dipped his hand in your panties, you just heard his whimpers and panting as he rutted his hard on into the side of your fat thigh, barely focused on you. you weren’t feeling it anymore, your wetness wasn’t even directed towards him really. everything you did with him was what you wanted to do with joel. you weren’t interested anymore and it started to feel wrong, it never felt good because tyler wasn’t worried about you. just his nut, and you didn’t like that. you didn’t like to feel used. 

“okay, wait, wait—i said wait!” you said and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from your panties and moving off of the bed. 

“wait, fuck i’m sorry, i was just so, fuck i’m so sorry.” he said a bit loudly, and you swore you heard a creak in the hallway as you moved to the door. 

“it’s okay, i just, i’m not–i’m tired. i think you should go.” you said, hugging your arm as he adjusted himself in his pants and got up. 

“i’m sorry, i,-” he tried again and you waved him off. 

“it’s done and forgotten, you didn’t do anything you were just really into it. i wasn’t.” you were careful with your words, not as tough as you would be because you’re vulnerable. but he wouldn’t get far if he hurt you, you knew that. 

“i’m sorry, goodnight. can we kind of like, forget this?” he asked rubbing the back of his neck and you softly laughed. 

“forget what?” you smiled and he returned it, giving a small kiss on the cheek before he left. he was a nice man, a good kid, and he meant no harm. he didn’t need a ruthless beating or yelling, just needed to tell him it wasn’t meant to be. you couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was, how wrong it felt being tyler touching you. 

you knew who you wanted to touch you. as sweet and kind and charming tyler was, he wasn’t what you wanted. the man you wanted was across the hall from you, on the other side of the stairs. sleeping, maybe. 

you knew ellie was at a friends house doing only god knows what, so with the hope in mind that joel was asleep in his room, you trotted downstairs braless, and bottomless. you were still in the same tight shirt you left in, but now just in the pink panties that were apart of the gifts maria got you. just new/traded clothing you needed. the shirt hugged you and cut off at the dip of your curve, the fat of your tummy slightly protruding between the shirt and your panties. 

you didn’t look towards the fireplace where the sofas were, instead you grab a small cup and let faucet water pour into it, taking a drink. 

“work up a sweat?” a deep southern voice said behind you, from a distance. you jumped at the sudden break of silence and turned quickly to the sofas. 

“joel? what the fuck,” you breathed and stepped out to walk to the sofas. somehow, you completely disregarded the fact that all you had on was a shirt and panties, standing in joel miller’s living room. 

“what made you think it was a bright idea to invite a bastard in my home like that? not only that,” he said. you finally saw the light from outside shining on his face as he stood up, something glimmering in his hand. a gun. “but letting him touch all over you? that prick?” 

you had a lot to say, a lot to yell out. but the only thing to say was a snarky comment. “you know he called you the same thing.” 

which, he did. but you were too drunk on the flirting and drinks to care or to know why, even though you already knew. joel wasn’t nice to anyone but ellie. tommy and maria even think he’s an asshole, but that’s tommy’s brother and maria’s brother in law. he’s family. but there were things that you didn’t know about joel miller. things he didn’t want you to know either. 

“why do you even care? who’s touching me, i mean.” you scoff, feeling less embarrassed about your state of clothing. but being a lot more aware as he steps closer and closer to your curvy figure, putting his gun in the waistband of his sweatpants. 

he was intimidating like this. towering over you with his fists clenched, searching your face for something. you felt your heartbeat pick up as his eyes raked over you and fell on your lips. he was drunk off of you, the sight of your fat cunt only being clothed by a single piece of fabric drove him to dig his nails in his palms. the nakedness of your thighs, and the midriff showing—it was going to kill him.

“if you’re gonna fuck these town folk, make sure it ain’t in my house.” he spit, and you just rolled your eyes. you felt like you were in trouble for sneaking out, like a teenager. 

“i didn’t fuck anyone. we didn’t do anything. he wanted to, i didn’t.” you defended, feeling small now but still holding yourself tall.

joel just looked at you, not wondering if you were lying or not. he knew you weren’t, he heard it himself the minute he heard something bang against your wall. it was just you shuffling to get up, and he heard you consoling him. you weren’t satisfied. 

“why’d you lie to me? bout’ seein’ him tonight?” he asked, your head tilted up to his as he steps one step closer. your chest is almost touch his, and your breathing was getting heavier. 

“figured you wouldn’t trust him,” you said, sounding like you wanted to say something else but keeping it to yourself. 

he was watching you like you were his prey. like you were something he wanted to take and devour for himself, like you were something for his eyes only. 

“smart girl,” 

“he touch you wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask, the curiosity killing him slowly as time passes with you standing in front of him with your tight pink panties on. he looked down between the two of you and saw the hardened pebbles that were your nipples showing up through your black tight shirt, down to your tummy that was pressed against his. he liked the softness of your belly, he was practically dying to grip it himself. he wanted to grip every part of you, to palm your pussy and feel how warm you were in his grip. he even found himself hating his own mind as thought of what your pussy would look like sucking him in. 

“i, he,” you were stuttering, embarrassing yourself as his hand trailed up your arm, thinking of all the ways he could watch you take his cock for him. 

you watched him watch you. how his eyes went dark again, how there was a slight touch of possessiveness in his voice. you didn’t assume though.

“can’t find the words, hm? he wasn’t makin’ you feel good?” he asked softly, watching as you closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth, opening again to see a small grin playing on his lips, his head tilted to the side. his fingers barely left your wrist, and made their way to your fleshy hip, tapping against the bare skin. he was enjoying this. making you squirm. making you nervous. 

“fuck off, joel,” you meant it to come out a lot stronger than it did, even you thought you sounded needy. “s’ none of your damn business,” you spit, stronger this time.

and before you could even wallow in your retorts, a smile tugged very faintly at his lips. you weren’t so convincing when you were practically trying to pull him to your body with your fists buried in his sweater. he appreciated the effort though, he's never met someone with as much bite in their bark as you.

he just liked to watch you writhe for him. you wanted to whine with how eager you were for him, how mean he was being to you for no reason. you needed him.

“it’s like you’re not even tryin’, what’s the matter? do i make you nervous sweetheart?” he gleamed in his power over you, the way your eyes searched for him and your mouth parted, just for him. he wanted to ruin you in every way. ruin every man for you, show you how to truly be taken care of.

"go fuck yourself," you retorted and he actually laughed. and he laughed at you. a sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you.

“i didn’t tell you but,” he paused as he leaned into your ear, grazing his cheek against yours and smiling to himself, “you looked real pretty today, ya know that? you look even prettier like this, all flustered for me.” 

you had to be dreaming. had to have gone to sleep after tyler left, and this was your wet dream making up for it. there was no way you were this exposed to joel and he was practically pressed up against your body as he told you how pretty you looked. you couldn’t speak, your tongue was tied and joel smiled to himself as he realized he got you to shut up.

“would ya let me touch you, sweet girl? maybe you'd be nicer if someone knew how to touch you,” he asked, his fingers playing on your hip. 

you still couldn’t answer. it felt like a trap, like if you let yourself give in to his words, every guard you put up was pointless. you were frozen, and suddenly felt insanely vulnerable but his voice was so inviting, so impossible to not fall into.

“touch me where?” you asked, treading lightly. you wanted to hear it, you wanted him to tell you he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. you wanted to prove to yourself that you hadn't lost your mind yet. but you also wanted to stretch whatever this was as long as possible before you find yourself on your knees for him without even asking.

joel felt like he was out of his body. like he was watching you squirm and move under his presence from above. he was so distracted by how hard your nipples were rubbing against him that he didn’t even notice your fists balled into his shirt, trying to take him in closer. maybe it was the alcohol he drank to ignore the jealousy he felt, or maybe it was the fact that tommy came to tell joel about the boy you were seeing. how the two of you were practically on top of each other before he left, how he was touching you in public–he was angry. 

nothing was done, nothing more than joel grabbing your almost bare hip and you tugging on his shirt, but it still felt like something that was crossing a line. a line you wanted to cross.

until he got the courage to grab the hand that was buried in his sweater, taking it in his own and touching you with your hand. he was answering your question. his hand ghosted on top of yours as his eyes watched your eyes train on the sight between the two of the bodies, enjoying how soft and pink you look. you were hot and bothered, and he could get used to seeing you like this. 

“first place i’d touch you, baby,” he breathes, his lips practically against your cheek now. he was breathing you in, drinking you in, “is right here,” 

his hand guided you to cup your mound, angry that it wasn’t his hand touching you. your breath was shaky while you watched him, your eyes flickering from his moving hand to his eyes, and every time he made sure your eyes latched onto his. he wanted you to know how much he was enjoying teasing you like this, he wanted you to remember the way he looked at you while you panted against him. 

“but like this, lemme show you ‘xactly how i’d touch you sweetheart,” he was lost, drunken only on you, ignoring the world around him. “don’t think that boy would be enough for a woman like you, ain’t that right?"

he took his own hand as you were still pressed against his front, his lips now teasing the skin of the crook of your neck and starting to pull your panties away from your skin to dip his hand inside. your breathing was uneven and your soft whimpers were getting louder the more he trailed down into your underwear, and he was loving them.

the second he felt the scruff of your unshaved mound, he heard you release a shaky, sexy breath, and he grew harder against your bare abdomen. even feeling the heat of your skin on his clothed cock made him want to get on his knees and worship you.

"needy little fuckin' thing, that desperate for me huh? you gonna let me feel this pretty pussy how i want?"

he was so fucking filthy. so filthy for someone who hasn't even seen you naked, so filthy for someone who didn't even talk to you before this. it was agonizing, you were melting into his harsh words and wanted to listen to him make you feel small like this all night.

"joel, i swear," you warned as his breath hit your lips with his eyes on yours.

you had a bush, he thought to himself. he really didn’t think that would turn him on of course,  but now he pictured you standing in front of him, bottomless. how your belly would look with your curves, the way your breasts would rest at their natural position, your thighs fat and wide all for him, and the pretty fat mound waiting for him to feel and taste. worst time to think all of that of course, because it sent a flood of blood and excitement to his groin, giving him another thing to be nervous about. but god did he want to see it, see all of you laid in his bed, and tugging on the thatch of hair on your mound. he was fucked.

and god forbid you figured out that he’s been picturing you bent and folded in every way just so he could reach to the back of your cervix, if you figured out that his anger towards you is pent up sexual frustration because every time you’re in the shower, he’s thinking of the way you looked lathered in soap, waiting for him to join you. he was a sick man to think of you like this, but all of his desires and fantasies were threatening to barge in, to unleash all of his wants and needs to you. 

he was fighting himself to be a respectable man, a man who doesn’t think of women who were young enough to be his own kid in ways that were sinful. he shouldn’t be wanting to fill your throat with his cock when you smart mouth him. he was losing whoever he thought was himself, and letting heart and cock do his thinking. 

you couldn't think right, nothing was processing as you felt the heat of his hand on your cunt. you felt another wave of pleasure hit you and suddenly, you could feel your wetness pooling for him in your panties. you had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that joel actually wanted you too, even if he wanted to put you in your place for once and shut you up.

you didn't care how he wanted you. you were a bitch, but you were desperate for him.

"mmm, you're real scary, baby, threats ain't gettin' you anywhere. you have t' beg me for my fingers," he teased, rubbing the hair on your mound.

"oh fuck off, i'm not begging you for shit," you're putting up a fight with yourself, and you were winning. at leadt you thought so. even if you were letting him touch you this way, you weren't goping to beg him or give him the pleasure of watching you submit to him.

"yeah? maybe i'll jus' make ya," he grinned, his sinister smile forming while he rested his forehead on yours, his hand inside your panties as the two of you watched him tease your lips.

the second joel’s finger moves from your hairy mound to the fat lips of your cunt to spread and feel just how much you ached for him, to tease your hole so you'd be sent into a fit of desperation, the two of you heard the doorknob jiggle and a loud laugh from the outside, meaning it was ellie. joel pulled his hand and body away quickly and nodded upstairs with a hard look, giving you the hint to go before ellie saw you in your panties. 

your face expressed everything to him, you needed him. and you didn’t want to let go. he watched as you walked up the stairs, your ass practically eating up the fabric of your panties. it left nothing to the imagination and he groaned, something you swore you heard, before he fixed himself in his pants. 

ellie walked in, and you stayed at the top of the stairs out of sight to hear the lecturing. 

“are you outta your damn mind, ellie? it’s three in the mornin’,” his paternal instincts were coming out, and you smiled. 

“i was down the street. relax, i just didn’t want to stay there.” ellie defended as she slipped her shoes off. 

“did somethin’ happen? are you hurt?” he asked quickly, examining ellie to see if he saw blood or cuts anywhere. 

“jeez, no joel lay off. why are you up anyways isn’t it like six hours past your bedtime?” she scoffed, annoyed at the father figure lecturing her right now. what was he gonna tell her? 

“was waitin for your friend to come home, so i can lock up before bed,” he lied. he was lying and you knew it. you came home an hour ago, and he was still up. 

“you’re in love aren’t ya? old man,” ellie teased. her demeanor was a little more playful than she’d been this last month and he shook his head annoyed, but to you it was silent. your lips pinched into a thin line as you heard joel grunt.

“go to be ellie. now.” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, saying her good nights and going to the garage to sleep in her space. 

a part of you wanted joel to come upstairs, into your room and to do everything he wanted to do. you didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but with the touching and flirting he was doing, it seemed like he wanted you. maybe he was drunk, you could smell it on his breath! he seemed pretty sober talking to ellie. you cursed yourself as you moved quietly to your room, leaving the door cracked open just in case. 

but nothing. you heard him trudge up the stairs, and walk directly the opposite direction into his own room. you were frustrated at this point. sexually frustrated if you must say, and the ache in your core was not leaving any time soon. 

you felt embarrassed, and you felt like joel was toying with you. all of the sudden this comes up and he's trying to finger fuck you in the living room when you genuinely thought he didn't even acknowledge your mere existence. it was so confusing for you, but the only thing you knew for sure now after a few weeks of deciding is that you craved joel miller.

it was a weird feeling. only because growing up in an apocalyptic world as a teenager and a young adult meant your chances of love and relationships were slim to none, at least for you. but you met joel in times where you had given up already.

as you lied in bed, wondering if joel was asleep or thinking about you too, you felt silly. you were setting yourself up for disaster by having hope that whatever this was with joel was more than that, and not just that. you worried you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe you were taking joel's advances too seriously. what if he just wants an easy fuck? nothing serious, something for pleasure in this dark world where everyone seeks a way to alleviate their pain

you felt like maybe you were geting into your head like you always do. maybe this could be good. maybe this could be your chance to let go, be vulnreable again, let someone make you feel like a teenager again. you had your fair share of crushes when you were in the QZ, you remembered that innocent feeling of liking someone, the shyness that came with it, how nervous you got around them. and with joel, you felt that times one hundred.

the flutters in your stomach, the goosebumps on your skin when he stands too close to you. he made you feel good even without trying.

but nothing good comes from joel miller.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: WHOOPS, I disappeared for two years. (Legit the last chapter was posted in May 2022!). But I’m back and have written… a lot of the rest of this fic, so we’re just going to post weekly (or even twice weekly!) until we’re finished. And I hope you’re still out there, anyone, to enjoy it. Quick recap for a previously on IDWTW. Aelin and Rowan had sex! It was great. Then they walked in on Rhoe and her dance teacher Petrah having sex, which was NOT great. Aelin never wants to go back to dance again. We returned to school. Senior second semester is going great. Busy for Aelin, who is still trying to work her butt off re: APs and grades. Less busy for Rowan, who is already recruited to college for lacrosse. Aelin and Lys had a huge falling out, but have slowly rekindled their friendship now that Lys is sober and working on her shit. Elide and Manon came out! They’re running as homecoming queens! Dorian and Chaol haven’t DTRed and are taking a break. Last we left off, Aelin texted someone to help retrieve her lacrosse hoodie from the dance studio after hours. But who? Keep reading to find out. Also, I have been gone for so long that I have NO idea who is still in the fandom or reading Rowaelin fic. Please reblog to spread the word! Taglist doesn't seem to possible anymore, so please share! Love you all and missed you all. Comment, message, meme, gif, whatever. Let’s go, team.

Aelin watched with wide eyes as Lys lowered into a crouch and removed a bobby pin from her hair. When she’d texted her friend to help with her mission, she hadn’t realized that Lysandra was a bona-fide expert at breaking and entering. 

“It got boring in rehab,” Lys said with a small shrug, as if that explained her masterful lock-picking.

“Good to know,” Aelin said, chewing her thumb nervous and glancing over her shoulder at Rowan, who waited patiently in the jeep — aka, their getaway car. She didn’t think they’d actually need one, but this whole thing was such a thing, she figured it was probably safest to have a getaway car. What if the cops were called about the break-in, and they had to run? 

Aelin almost chuckled at the thought of Orynth’s elderly Police Chief trying to run after them, but it hadn’t stopped her from telling Lys to dress all in black and meet them at the dance studio at eight. Luckily, Rhoe was at the station overnight, so he couldn’t see their ridiculous antics. But, after all, this mission was serious. She tried to refocus on Lys, who was finagling with a pin in the lock, taking her sweet time. A rush of panic ran through Aelin. What if they got caught? What if this got put on her permanent record? What if they got arrested?

BZZZZ. Aelin’s phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump with surprise. 

“Gods,” she muttered under her breath, causing Lys to chuckle under her breath.

“Tell your buzzard not to worry, we’re almost there,” she said, twisting the pin again in a different direction. Aelin sighed at the reassurance. She knew that Rowan had to be feeling her nerves as well. Although maybe not quite as much. She wasn’t usually concerned about being a rule follower, but every step of the way had made her feel more and more stressed out. Which might have to do more with her overbearing boyfriend watching their every move than anything else. Couldn’t he just sit there and look cute and not worry? She looked at his text and shook her head. She should have known it’d be impossible. He was the biggest worry wart of them all.

Are you sure no one’s in the studio? It looks like the lights are on upstairs. Rowan texted from the front seat, his view of the studio probably better than theirs. But Aelin had spent too many years of her life at this studio. Despite her churning stomach, she knew they were fine.

Last class ended an hour ago. They always leave the lights on for the cleaning staff, but they get Fridays off, so they’re on until Saturday morning. It was part of my class schedule to turn the lights off. We’re good.

She looked over her shoulder after sending the text, and watched as Rowan threw a thumbs up in her direction. She couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked in his oversized black hoodie with the hood up. Despite completely disapproving of her decision, he showed up ready for the assignment at hand. 

“Tadaaa,” Lys sang out quietly as the lock clicked open, the door popping ajar. 

“Honestly, when I asked you to help me break into the dance studio, I figured we’d be throwing a rock into a window or something,” Aelin whispered, even though there was absolutely no reason to whisper at all. Aelin had timed it purposefully, so she wouldn’t have to run into … anyone. Okay, she really didn’t want to have to talk to Petrah. She’d avoided the studio (and Petrah) for so many weeks following the revelation that she’d been involved with her dad, and she had no intention of breaking that now. So, they’d had no choice but to break into the studio under the cover of darkness.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lys said. “The door upstairs has a lock, too, right?” 

Aelin nodded. Annoyingly, there were three doors they had to break open — the building door, the door to the second floor, and then the dance studio entrance. Thank god Aelin had her locker key, so that wasn’t a worry.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Lys asked as they trudged up the long stairwell to the second floor. She tried not to flinch as the rubber-covered stairs squeaked beneath her shoes. “Not that I’m not happy to help,” she continued. “I just thought that you started dancing again and loved it?”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “I did.” Aelin paused for a beat too long, causing Lys to flip her dark curls over her shoulder to get a better look at Aelin. 

“But?”

“It’s…complicated,” Aelin sighed as Lys crouched down in front of the second floor door.

“Well, this is going to take a minute,” Lys laughed. “Tell me.” Aelin was going to refute again when Lys’s voice changed, softer. “Unless you don’t want to…”

Aelin nearly smacked herself. She’d thought this would be a ridiculous, fun (and pretty low-stakes) way to hang out with Lys again, and here she was totally ruining it by keeping things to herself again.

“No, it’s not like that,” Aelin reassured her as she continued to work on the lock. “It’s just… horrifying.”

“Well now you can’t not tell me,” Lys snickered, but Aelin recognized the slight trepidation in her friend’s green eyes. Still nervous to push things. Aelin bit the bullet and let it out in a whoosh.

“Oh my GOD.” Lys’s nose crinkled, and she fell to her knees completely as her shoulders shook with laughter as Aelin told her story. “I mean, we all knew Rhoe fucked,” Lys cackled, causing Aelin to smack her friend’s knee. 

“EW! That is my dad,” she said, fake heaving.

“He’s a hot, hot firefighter daddy, though,” Lys said, her eyebrows wiggling.

“I swear to god I will vomit straight on you.”

Aelin tried to be serious, but Lysandra’s smile pushed them both over the edge into a fit of giggles. They laughed and laughed, releasing the tension that had been hovering around them like a thick blanket all night, officially removing all traces of formality. Unable to help herself, Aelin reached out for her friend’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently and was relieved as Lys squeezed back. They weren’t healed, per se, but they were healing, and that was the most that Aelin could really ask for right now.

Taking a breath and wiping the remnant tracks of tears from her cheeks, Lys pushed herself back up to her knees. “Second lock?”

“Speaking of my family…” Aelin started nervously, but forged on, curious. “How’s Aedion doing?” 

To her credit, Lys didn’t even lose pace as she unlocked the next door with ease.

“I know you want me to reply with something equally scandalous, but there’s nothing going on between me and Aedion,” Lys replied succinctly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, not completely convinced, but chose to respect her boundaries and believe her words. 

The pair fell into an awkward silence as they headed down the hall toward the studio door. Just one last lock to get through — and then she’d never have to return to this place. A part of her heart panged at that thought, that she’d be leaving Orynth and this studio behind and not really getting to say goodbye to it. But running into Petrah was NOT an option.

“Hey, isn’t this the studio?” Lys asked of a propped open door, a gentle music wafting from inside. Aelin’s stomach sank. Had someone stayed late tonight practicing? It was a plus that they wouldn’t have to break into yet another door, but she really didn’t want to risk running into anyone. “I thought you said it was closed.”

At the same time, the pair noticed the schedule on the door, showing the company’s new rehearsal schedule. Their rehearsals now went until nine on Friday night, meaning that Aelin had shown up in the middle of a packed studio, instead of an empty one. And one where Petrah would surely be. She contemplated turning right around, but Lys had already opened the door too far, leading them into the studio lobby where the company was on break, milling around and refilling their water bottles.

And at the front desk, Petrah’s eyes widened with surprise upon seeing her. “Aelin!”

She should have guessed breaking in had been too easy. Had the doors even been locked? She knew Lysandra had gotten through them too quickly! Grumbling, she stepped out of the shadow and into the lobby toward Petrah. She couldn’t run away anymore, so she had no choice but to say hello to the woman who she’d been studiously avoiding for weeks. And by the look on Petrah’s face, she knew it, too.

“I’ll go grab your jersey,” Lys whispered, leaving her to fend for herself. “See you downstairs!”

“Traitor,” Aelin mumbled under her breath as Lysandra all but ran into the locker room, excusing herself from the awkward conversation that surely lay ahead. She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck, watching Petrah approach nervously.

“Aelin,” she said again, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you….” But Aelin cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she said, ready to slap her hands over her ears, lest Petrah talk about her dad in any less than completely formal way.

Petrah’s deep pink lips curled up on one side in amusement, but Aelin watched as she took another deep breath and shook off whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she watched as her smile fell into a wistful expression. “We’ve missed seeing you around here,” Petrah said.

Aelin’s eyes shot to the open doorway of the studio where the company practiced, all jetes and pirouettes and well-supported port de bras. She had missed dancing. She really had just gotten back into it when she let it fall away. Petrah must have seen her expression because she smiled faintly and let her delicate hand fall to Aelin’s shoulder.

“You could join the class. Dance it out,” Petrah suggested.

Aelin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancers. She watched the emotion pour from them. That is what she needed. But as Lysandra held up her jersey and trailed down the stairs in the periphery of her vision, Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t tonight.”

“I understand that it might be strange to spend time with me after what you overheard…” Petrah trailed off as blood pooled in her cheeks, filling her usual pale complexion with a deep blush. “It was completely casual. It’s only happened a handful of times, and we both know it’s not serious. I’m not trying to replace your mother, or anything like that, it’s just… an occasional stress release, and oh my god, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say any of that.” Aelin cringed at the words. She wanted to stop Petrah, but the woman couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. “Please don’t give up dance because of this,” Petrah pleaded. “You have such a gift, Aelin, and I would be filled with regret for the rest of my life if I knew I was the cause of you walking away from it.”

Aelin took a breath, the comforting scent of chalk and worn leather infiltrating her senses and calming her down as she figured out what to reply to Petrah. Of course she wanted to dance still. It was undeniable, the way her body pulled her toward the studio, the way a sense of calm settled through her despite her initial discomfort upon seeing Petrah. She thought about her lack of free time and her constantly building stress as the semester went on and how badly she wished she could just dance it out. That release of emotion centered her, and she knew that she was feeling off kilter without it. Making time for dance had improved her life drastically — it'd kept her sane as the rest of her semester spiraled out of control — and she wanted it back. So, so badly.

She was on the verge of agreeing to join the practice when there was a crash and loud shriek from the studio. When the shriek morphed into a choked sob, a churning nausea overwhelmed Aelin. She watched as Petrah’s face morphed into one of horror as she sprinted into the studio. Sure enough, one of the dancers was on the floor, cradling her ankle, cheeks red and involuntary tears dripping down her skin, while another dancer attempted to help her stand. The girl hissed, crying out in pain and sat down again.

“Call an ambulance,” someone ordered, and suddenly there was a frenzy, a rush of dancers looking on in terror at the injury in front of them. Aelin stood with her back against the wall, not wanting to be in the way, slinking out of sight while so much was going on. It felt like a sign from the universe that Aelin shouldn’t even think about wasting her time with dancing. Like the gods warned her that she had way too much going on to even consider it.

With Petrah distracted, Aelin slipped out, trying to gain control of her waging feelings. She slid into the backseat next to Lys, her mind reeling and unable to get the image of the crying dancer out of her head. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear Rowan call out to her, until red and blue flashed behind them. He swung his head over her shoulder, his mouth agape in horror as he stared at his unusually quiet girlfriend.

“Ace, what did you do? Are those the cops?!”

Aelin shook her head, the horrible feeling of nausea persisting in her gut as Rowan drove away from the studio.

. . .

It had been days since Aelin had received a text from an unknown number, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

I thought you should know we’re holding an emergency dance company audition this Tuesday at 5pm. Please come, Aelin.

Aelin chewed her sandwich thoughtfully as she pulled up the text again. The audition was merely hours away, but she was still on the fence.

“You still haven’t made up your mind?” Lysandra asked, glancing at Aelin’s phone screen. Her former — maybe current — friend had started joining them at the lunch table in the last few days since their late night break in, continuing to heal and thaw what had broken between them.

“I keep telling her to pro con list,” Rowan said, letting his fingers trail across the back of her neck and kneading the tight muscles there with his strong grasp.

“Mmmm,” Aelin mumbled, leaning further into his touch. “Con. Time spent without you.”

“Pro, something to do while I’m at lacrosse practice,” he countered as his fingers massaged a particularly tender part of her neck. She angled her head so he could have better access, but he took it as an invitation to let his head drop to her bare skin and press his lips against it, causing her body to light up. As she leaned toward him with another light moan, Dorian slammed his tray down on the table with a loud thwack.

“Get a room or get outta here,” he complained, tossing a fry at the still-intertwined pair.

“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” Aelin laughed as she tossed the fry back at the offender.

“My panties are perfectly smooth, thank you very much,” Dorian quipped. “Some of us would just prefer not to bear witness to your foreplay.”

“Pro,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear, his lips ghosting against the tickling skin there. “I really love watching you dance.”

“Pro,” Aelin whispered back. “Increased stamina, muscle strength, and flexibility.”

Aelin glanced up at Rowan, who was already staring back at her with a fiery intensity. Her eyes glanced down at his mouth, which was curled into a satisfied smirk. His throat bobbed with a slow swallow, surely thinking of all the way those fitness benefits could be put to good use. She leaned in slightly, her lips a hairs breadth away from his when another fry hit her cheek. Aelin whipped her head around, rubbing at the salty spot where the food had made contact with her face.

Dorian was the picture of innocence, eyes wide as he chewed his own fry.

“Con,” Lys interjected. “Increased horniness.”

“Literally didn’t think that was possible,” Dorian said with a snort. “So, what are we pro-conning?” he asked, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Orynth Dance Company is having an emergency audition after an injury, and Aelin was personally invited to try out,” Lysandra explained.

“But I don’t really have the time,” Aelin started. “It would require actual rehearsal time. Like, a lot of nights. Not just an hour long class. Plus, I’d have to see Petrah every day. And I have to knock this last semester’s grades out of the park if I want to even think about getting a scholarship anywhere, plus I have a million AP exams to study for coming up, and that’s not even considering keeping up with hospital volunteering and going to your games and having any kind of semblance of a social life and…” she trailed off, her stomach finally settling as she came to the conclusion she knew she was going to come to all along. “I can’t join the dance company.”

Rowan frowned and reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Ace?” His hand wrapped around hers in a comforting squeeze, and she knew he was asking seriously. “We could make it work. I could help you study, we could bring out your color-coded schedule again to make sure we could fit everything in.”

“I know,” Aelin sighed, squeezing back. “But, I’m sure.”

But as the afternoon ticked by, Aelin couldn’t ignore the swirling feeling of guilt trying to pull her under. She was so distracted by the approaching time that she completely zoned out through all of AP Lit, startling when the period ended and Dorian poked her side.

And as five PM approached closer and closer, she found herself growing more agitated and even snapping at Rowan at one point. It wasn’t his fault; he had to head off to lacrosse practice, but Aelin had found herself so worked up that she had thought maybe he’d want to help release some tension.

“I’ll come right over after practice,” Rowan promised as he twined his hands around her waist.

“But you’ll be all sweaty and gross,” Aelin replied with a frown.

“I thought you liked when I get sweaty,” he laughed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Aelin sighed, knowing she was being petulant, but she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Only when I’m the one doing it!”

She tried to push him away, but Rowan’s grasp on her was iron-clad, too tight for her to even think about prying him off her. “Ace,” he lowered his voice. “I would love nothing more than to skip practice and be with you, but you know this is the only thing I need to do this semester to keep my place at Wendlyn.”

“Because Wendlyn’s more important than me?”

“I think you need a snack,” Rowan laughed, but Aelin didn’t find that funny at all.

“Sorry my blood sugar problems are amusing to you,” she said, stiffening within his grasp. She felt Rowan sigh deeply and watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his brows up the way she loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know that’s not—”

“I know,” Aelin replied quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Rowan raised a single brow as if to tell her he knew exactly what had gotten into her, and so did she.

“It’s not even four yet,” Rowan said. “You could still go.”

But Aelin was nothing if not resolute. She’d made up her mind, and it was completely logical. And she was sticking to it. No, she’d head home and, yes, get a snack, and dig into her lit homework. Maybe Dorian would be willing to give her his notes from the class, seeing as she couldn’t remember a single thing that was discussed earlier.

She forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders back. “Nope, you were right. I need a snack. I’ll head to Maeve’s and see what she’s got for me.”

Rowan grimaced. “She closed for the afternoon, actually, while they put in a new stove, but she should be reopened by the time I’m out of practice.” Aelin shivered as Rowan let his fingers trail in small circles up and down her back. “Why don’t I stop there on my way to your place after practice? Cheeseburger and brownies?”

“And then orgasms?” Aelin asked, causing a loud snort to erupt from Rowan.

“You want to have sex after cheeseburger and brownies? That feels dangerous.”

“Well, we could have sex first, but reheated cheeseburgers are pretty garbage,” Aelin replied, loving the soft smile that appeared on Rowan’s face. It was the one solely reserved for her. When she was being particularly ridiculous or annoying, it was like he couldn’t help but love her more, and the small curve of his lips let her know that.

“You’re right. Cheeseburgers first,” he paused. “Then sex, then brownies?”

“Deal,” Aelin said as she reached her hand out to shake his. But he instead grasped it in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

And though Aelin wanted to roll her eyes, she took a moment to relish the fact that her best friend in the whole world loved her. And would do anything to make her smile. In fact, he’d succeeded in getting her too distracted to think about the auditions and…

As soon as she thought about them, her smile faded again.

“Just go,” he whispered, but Aelin shook her head.

“Have a good practice. See you in a few hours.”

She kissed him and sent him off, hoping to pour herself into her studies. But even with her book open, Aelin digested none of what she was reading. She kept looking at the clock, distracted. Even as it passed five pm, knowing that she was missing the auditions, she still couldn’t focus. And her mood started to plummet.

It plummeted even further as she received a text from Rowan saying that their coach needed him to stay behind for a bit after practice and that he’d be later than anticipated.

She tried to read more, and when that didn’t work, she attempted to do some math equations, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. She knew what she needed. And it was to dance it out. Despite everything, that was still her best coping mechanism. When a second text from Rowan came in, apologizing for being even later, Aelin had had enough. She couldn’t just sit here and wallow. Instead, she wrote a note for whoever would get home first – her dad, Lorcan, or Rowan — and began walking.

She didn’t even know where she was walking until she ended up at the dance studio. It was unlocked, but empty. She couldn’t remember if there had been an end time to the auditions, but it seemed completely deserted. No one was sitting at the front desk, and the lights were eerily dim. This is what she’d expected to walk into last week when she’d stolen back her lacrosse hoodie, and she was even more annoyed about it somehow.

Instead of focusing on that, though, she went straight for the first open studio and turned the lights on. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered on, illuminating the wooden floors beneath with a warm yellow glow. She toed her sneakers off and padded barefoot to the corner of the studio where the massive (and ancient) stereo system was stored. She pulled her phone out and connected it, pulling up one of the old playlists Rowan had made for her and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her feet took off, working in sync with the rhythm reverberating through the bare floor. Next, her arms spread, stretching out and shaking off the stress of the last few weeks.

For the first time, she really let herself feel it. The worrying and wondering what the future would hold. She knew Rowan was destined for Wendlyn, but she had no idea what she would do if she didn’t get in, too. He’d assured her that they’d stay together and figure it out, but who really stays with their high school boyfriend? She knew they weren’t like everyone else – they were special – but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it and wondering. When it came down to it, that’s why she really couldn’t bring herself to audition today. She couldn’t risk spending less time with Rowan, not if this was the last few weeks of their relationship.

Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

She ignored the small tear that pooled in the corner of her eye, letting it drip down her cheek as she spun in time with the music. How could she doubt her and Rowan’s relationship after all this time? She knew in her soul that they were destined to be together. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t wake up and see him every day. But there had been a small slice of fear since they first kissed, and it had ebbed and flowed with each passing day until it was now a gaping chasm in the pit of her stomach. The idea that she could end up elsewhere without Rowan was a real, actual problem. And the timeframe was closing in on them. What if this was the end of them? How would she ever recover?

Her hands reached overhead and then she let her body collapse to the floor in a graceful fall, letting go over the overwhelming sensations of fear that had been swirling and threatening to paralyze her. She arched her back and her neck released, the tension that Rowan had tried to knead attempting to relax and letting gravity pull her down, down, down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rowan. She did. More than anything. She just didn’t trust this world. She didn’t trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I mean, just look at her dad. He’d thought he’d found the love of his life, and she walked away like it was nothing. Walked away from Aelin.

She didn’t want to cling to Rowan, to be the girl who changed her whole life just to be with a guy. She wasn’t that person. No. She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, and she could live life fully on her own. But she wanted to be with Rowan. Wanted the whole package. Saw their life together. And wanted more than anything for it to become a reality. But what if that future disappeared? What if it was cut short? What if they drifted apart. What if they tried to do long distance? Last summer while he was at camp was only two months and it was pure torture. It caused a rift so big between them that she wasn’t sure they’d overcome it. And yes, of course they did. But… to do it again? And for four years?

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she continued to dance out her frustrations, stomping and spinning and leaping, hoping against all hopes that the answers to her anxieties would appear if she could only dance long enough. She left every feeling, every worry, every gnawing anxiety on the dance floor, letting it tumble out through her moving limbs.

She didn’t know how long she’d been dancing when she opened her eyes again and refocused at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the girl she saw there. She may not have come up with any answers, but she felt better. Raw, red eyed, red cheeked, and breathing hard, Aelin felt totally exposed. Which is why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice cut through the silence, over her harsh exhale.

“Practice starts next week.”

The director of the company stood in the darkened doorway of the studio, arms crossed and lips pursed in thoughtful approval.

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I know you weren’t,” she said with a formal smile. “But we’d still love to have you. If you want.”

It wasn’t necessarily the answer she had hoped to reach, but something about this moment felt like the universe trying to reassure her. That things do work out the way they’re supposed to.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

A wide smile crossed the director’s face. “Welcome to the Orynth Dance Company,” she congratulated her.

Aelin didn’t know what had overcome her, but she couldn’t help but run over to her and throw her sweaty arms around her neck in a giant hug.

“Thank you.”

Right on cue, Aelin’s phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Cheeseburgers en route. See you soon. Xx

. . .

As anticipated, the cheeseburgers were exactly what Aelin needed to rejuvenate herself, but Rowan was totally right that there was no way to be sexy after housing a half pound of meat and cheese.

“I’m so stuffed,” she said, patting her extremely full stomach.

Rowan snorted. “Why don’t we take a post-dinner break and watch something?”

“Only if it’s Housewives!” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for him and Rhoe, who were properly affronted that Rowan hadn’t brought them cheeseburgers, as well.

Aelin sighed and chuckled softly as she let herself slump over onto Rowan, who was already pulling up Housewives onto the television.

“You are such an enabler,” Aelin laughed.

“It’s easier than dealing with him being pouty,” Rowan smartly replied.

Aelin was about to agree when they were interrupted by an unusual ring tone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, sitting up suddenly. “Is that your… home phone?”

Aelin genuinely couldn’t remember the last time that had rung. Usually she and her dad were both contacted on their cells. They really just had a home line because it was part of their internet package. She couldn’t even remember who had that number.

“Uh, phone’s for you Aelin?” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen.

Even weirder?

“Who the hell would be calling this late on a Tuesday?” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s brow lifted.

“Why don’t you go see?”

Curious, Aelin pried herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen where Lorcan was standing with a spatula in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

Lorcan shrugged, simply shoving the phone forward. Helpful.

Aelin cradled the phone against her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A deep voice rang out over the phone. “Is this Miss Aelin Galathynius?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Excellent!” the voice boomed, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear slightly. “My name is Xavier Forul, and I’m a local alum of Wendlyn University. I’d love to have you in for an interview some time in the near future. Whenever you’re available! I know you’re a busy senior with a lot on her plate.”

Aelin’s heart took off, beating faster as his words unfolded.

“Interview?”

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s my favorite part of the process. As a former Wendlyn man myself, I get to sit down and speak with young promising applicants to see what their goals and ambitions might be and how they might become part of the Wendlyn world.”

Aelin glanced at the silver-headed mop peeking out above the couch and exhaled slowly. This was it. The universe reassuring her. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She could dance, she could nail her classes this semester, and she’d get into Wendlyn and be with Rowan.

“Wow, thank you so much for reaching out,” Aelin began, her autopilot pilot voice taking over. “I’d love to meet with you.”

As Xavier explained the details of the interview, Aelin’s hope buoyed. She’d been waiting for a sign from the universe, something to tell her that she and Rowan were going to work out and be fine. If a personalized phone call on a landline that hadn’t rung in more months than she could count, inviting her into the home of a University alum wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. And Aelin began to hope for the first time that everything was going to actually work out.

~*~

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part II

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~6900 (haha.. whoops again) Warnings: suggestive, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, death, blood drinking, combat

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here

Summary: Set in Act II (pre-Moonrise Towers), Astarion and Tav/Reader wake up in the Last Light Inn after he makes amends. Astarion begins to realize what he is feeling for Tav/Reader is different then anything he has every felt before, and it is a continuous internal battle for him in more ways than one.

Notes: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. The backstory established in chapter 1 still continues — Reader/Tav is Selûne blessed; noble with only a few specific appearance descriptors used (silver hair/star like freckles). This update is a combination of like 3 little daily headcannon dreams I had while playing the game the first time, and I felt like they all flowed so well together to create what would be a series of moments for Astarion to realize he was indeed falling for Tav before his confession scene that happens after Moonrise towers!

I hope to write more for this specific pairing, as I want to add even more to the confession scene from Astarion. And also the resolution for Reader and Shadowheart. I know how it all ends in my head, but I am loving writing it out and sharing with you all! ♡♡♡

P.S.: I keep slipping little Shadowheart x Karlach moments in... because I love the idea of them being together. But you can take it however you want to LOL.

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

Astarion blinked awake, slowly, peacefully. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. He usually bolted awake on instinct after finishing his trance.

But this morning he was greeted by a comfortable silence. Stretching his neck, he smiled as he took in your still sleeping form — hair tousled with sleep. One hand clutching your pillow while the other rested near his own, outstretched. Had you held his hand as you were sleeping? He couldn’t recall once he had fallen into his trance.

As if sensing him looking at you, your eyes fluttered open before your lips curved softly at the sight of him.

It made his half-dead heart flutter.

“You talk in your sleep.” You mumbled with a voice still hoarse and drowsy.

“I do? What did I say?” A knot formed in his stomach as he thought of the possibilities — the damning things he could have said.

“It was mostly muttering. You weren’t very coherent… but you sounded afraid. So I…” You flexed your fingers next to his own hand before trailing off.

You had reached out to comfort him whilst he slept. He swallowed as he looked at both of your hands still stretched out to the middle. Before he pulled it back, intertwining it with his other one laying on chest. “Apologies. I’ve never had a bed partner before… You must have slept terribly.”

“No, not at all. I haven’t sleep this well in months actually.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head, starting to sit up on the soft mattress.

Astarion agreed silently in his head. Not that he would admit it so freely out loud.

The pair of you sat in silence for a moment, your bodies still slightly laid across the mattress as you tried to will yourselves to start the day. Occasionally, he could feel you glance over to him. After mustering up some courage, he looked over at you with his red eyes round and vulnerable.

You studied the features of his face for a moment, before your eyebrows crinkled. “You must be starving. You haven’t fed.”

“No… but I’ll be fine. I’m sure some evil cultist will pull a sword on us and I will get to shred their throat.” He let out his nervous laugh, but the burning in his throat was uncomfortable.

“Astarion. You need but ask—“

“I can’t — I couldn’t.” Not after how he had acted last night. The shame that had ripped through him still lingered, his skin turning hot again as he remembered.

Then you were closing the empty space between, shuffling on your knees across the mattress as you got closer to him. “You need it to survive, you can’t help it that you’re—“

“A monster?” His lips curled, before he flashed his face away from you.

Your voice was quiet, laced with an ache he couldn’t understand. “I don’t think you’re a monster. Have I made you feel like one?”

He thought of your face that fateful night when you learned what he truly was. Surprise had flickered across your face, but never fear or hatred. You had quickly turned the tables as you were then calming him down. As if you hadn’t just woken up to him looming over you, fangs bared like a wild animal.

You hadn’t treated him any differently at all. Perhaps you asked a few curious questions and graced him with some teasing with that sharp tongue of yours. But you had believed him and accepted him as he was. Trusted him.

He wanted to hate you for it. For not seeing him as a wild, dangerous creature. For not just treating him like every other person did when they realized what he truly was.

It would be easier — to hate you.

But he couldn’t. He would never.

“No. You haven’t.”

“Astarion,” You grabbed onto his wrist delicately, your touch featherlight and a bit hesitant. “Feed.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.” You laid back out onto the bed, stretching out your neck for him. He swallowed, already eyeing your pulse point that was beckoning him closer.

His throat bobbed up and down as he pushed his blankets aside and eliminated the lingering space left between you. His fingertips brushed over the puncture wounds that lingered on your neck now — he had committed to always feeding from the same spot, so to avoid further marking your perfect form. His fingers trailed up your jawline, your cheekbones and into your hairline. “You’re too good to me,” He murmured into your skin, pressing a soft kiss on your neck. Surprised by his own intimacy, he pulled back to look you in the eye. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, fisting the sheet you laid on in preparation.

Astarion moved his body half over yours and sunk his teeth in, piercing through the soft flesh until your hot blood rushed into his mouth. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as the sweet taste flooded all of his senses.

But he had become better at it — not as frantic as his first time. Not as desperate. One of his hands lingered in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist carefully as he pulled himself closer into you. The thin fabric of your nightclothes let him feel your warm, soft skin beneath.

The thundering of your heart was echoing in his ears and down into his own chest. But your shallow breaths were acting as a timer. He needed to stay aware of you, to not push you or your body too far. He became increasingly aware of your hands tightening in the sheets and toes curling as you let out a whimper. Both pain and pleasure intermixed.

He realized that so often while he had fed from you, the lines got blurred. Lately, you both had been buried deep in each other whilst he was sucking and lapping at your neck — bringing you both into bliss for very different reasons. And though those moments with you did bring him into euphoria, something no one else’s touch or body had done in a century, it still brought that familiar tremble. A single thought that spoiled the high and made him wish he could peel off his skin.

He didn’t want to cross that line today, not if he didn’t have to.

With a gasp, he pulled away from your neck. He lingered close to it for a moment, breathing in your scent once more before licking at the punctures to stop any lingering blood from pooling out. Sitting back up, his tongue went over his lips and teeth cleaning up the red stains. “Are you alright?”

Your voice was a gentle whisper, purposefully calm to reassure him. “Yes. Are you?”

“Feeling better already.” He wiped at the corners of his mouth carefully, before asking, “Do you need — would you like me to make you feel better?”

“It’s nothing that my amulet and a strong cup of tea won’t fix.” You gripped the edge of the bed as you sat up, fingers already clasping at the golden amulet glittering off of your neck — it glowed slightly at your touch. The colour slowly returned to your cheeks, and the open puncture marks closed — leaving behind the purple-red bruises from his mouth and small scars from his fangs.

“Right. But I got mine… do you want yours too?” His pale fingers swirled nervously on his own knee.

“Astarion, this isn’t transactional.” You said with a shake of your head.

No, that couldn’t be. Everything had a cost, everything was an exchange. He knew that, he lived by that.

“What?” A bewildering look crossed his face, his head cocked to the side. He was sure he hadn’t heard you right.

But you said firmly, “I don’t expect anything in return. Not ever.”

“Then why in the heavens do you let me do this!?” He asked exasperatedly, his voice a little louder than he intended.

You took a large breath before staring back into his eyes, your stare and voice unwavering. “Because I care about you. And you told me heartbreaking stories of how you spent years eating rats and bugs. Being tortured and cut into. I may not ever truly know what you went through Astarion… but I understand. So every moment that I spend with you, I want to show you the opposite.”

“Someone will take advantage of that you know. Take advantage of you —that goodness you insist on.” Your blood in his stomach turned sour, as he knew that someone was him.

“I know. They have and they will. But I will not change my mind on this. And despite what you think or expect, I will not treat you like a monster or a thing. You are a person, albeit a complicated one, but aren’t we all.”

He blinked at your sudden outburst, mouth open slightly as his mind scrambled for some witty response, some quick line. But he failed too as you continued your admission.

“I wish you could see yourself how I see you. Not just the drawings I gave to you when you told me you wished to see your reflection…,” Those charcoal drawings of his face were carefully tucked into the pages of a leather book in his pack. His most prized possession. “One day, when you are ready to hear it I will tell you.”

Astarion remained silent. He was gobsmacked, his eyes wide. He felt like he was still processing, his mind sputtering and his heart thundering from your confessions. You cared for him? You understood him? And there was more to hear? Whenever he was ready… whatever that meant.

The only attachment he had planned for was your bodies intertwining in a false passion. Not that it had been very fake as of late… But everything else.

Astarion was suddenly very out of his element.

“Have a left you speechless, my dear? Maybe I should make unprompted speeches more often.” You smirked, though your face flushed a brilliant shade. He had been silent for too long, so you had tried to make things light and airy.

He slipped back into his usual cadence as his face broke into a grin, a dark chuckle escaping him. “So vicious, darling. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”

He prayed he wasn’t.

• • •

It was a hard few days in the Shadowlands, searching for a way to break the curse and edging ever closer to Moonrise Towers.

It was brutal here, punishing. Each turn more dangerous than the next.

There were no animals for him to feed on, so Astarion sheepishly continued to accept your offers. And there was no exchange as you promised, except quiet gratitude from him and an even more quiet understanding from you.

It was bewildering and mystifying. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why you would choose to do that for him.

He could understand you jumping to the aid and rescue of the Tiefling children, helpless animals, the young couples desperately in love. They were good, they were pure.

But he was none of those things. He was wretched and broken. He craved violence and vengeance. His touch was a curse for you both. And he had used you, manipulated you. And maybe you knew it.

Yet you were still there.

And the cursed lands kept reminding him of that.

Everywhere they looked he seemed to find pairs. Engraved wedding rings enchanted to protect the other. Skeleton couples laid next to each other in their final moments. Like the pair that died on the rooftop, their boney fingers still intertwined. The handwritten poems cataloging the love they held for each other sat next to them, like they had whispered it to each other before their last breaths. 

You had found the poems first, a soft look on your face as you read it to the group — your tender voice breaking as you neared the end of the last poem, their final declaration of love even in death. Astarion had to look away as you finished it, his half-dead heart thumping in his chest as he heard you speak the proclamation. He wouldn't allow his mind to even start to imagine you saying such things to him. 

Lae’zel’s huffs broke the moment, demanding they get a move on and head back to camp already. The group blinked back to reality, before turning on their heels to go.

You walked ahead of him as the group began to backtrack to camp, tucking the book of poems into your pack with a gentle touch.

Astarion’s thoughts had been consumed by you for sometime now. For longer then he had realized. Perhaps from the moment he met you. He sometimes wondered what about you had kept him so captivated. Why he picked you to feed on, or to be the unsuspecting member of his plan.

He could have picked Wyll — he was noble and honorable, prone to jump into the thick of things to save an innocent or a friend. Loyal to a fault. And he was quite handsome too. Like the princes he dreamed to marry when he was a boy.

But no, it was you he was drawn to. His little moon.

He had realized that he ached for something he had never known, and had never before believed truly existed — that it was only invented to be seen in plays or read in prose and poetry. But now he longed for it with you.

When he was cursed to this life of a bloodsucking monster, of a vampire, he quickly realized that he would always feel hungry. That he could have his fill of blood and still be starving. He could drain this merry party dry and still feel that prick in his throat and pang in his belly.

What he didn’t realize was that the curse Cazador bestowed to him was so much more. Not just an endless bloodlust, not just waking nightmares and endless torment. But that he could long and ache for companionship, attachment, love. But that he would never take it for himself. That he would always be both starving and empty.

Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Not after the things he’d done, in this life and his old one. Not after what he had become. He didn’t deserve you — someone so good that a literal goddess had blessed you with their power. Someone whose voice turned gentle as their fingers trailed lines of poetry. Someone who would offer themselves up to a monster, just to make them feel whole again.

You deserved someone bright and unbroken. Who could give and receive touch as freely as breathing air. Who knew that true companionship wasn't some fantasy invented for the arts, that love was more then sex and flattery. Who could one day also lay beside you, willing to accept what fate becomes them and turn to bone. Not a half-dead creature like him.

He knew he would cease his foolish plan. He couldn’t use you as bait nor a shield, not anymore. You deserved better than that. What that meant for him… he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps he should confess to his plan too. As a final way to make you understand what a manipulative bastard he truly was. To push you away. It would hurt less than to confess what his heart wished for, but his mind knew he could never have.

The path the group was walking along was overgrown with thorns and vines. A specific darkness plagued the route, and it was barely dulled from the magical glow of the party’s several spells and enchantments. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, his red eyes darting around them — searching.

It happened in an instant — the shadows silent and invisible until it was too late. The creatures appeared with a sudden flash, long curling claws slashing into your side — catching you unawares. Your shout of pain alerted the rest of the party, everyone drawing their weapons quickly.

Astarion went to the enchanted daggers at his side, hurling them through the air with easy precision as they found their target. They boomeranged back to him, sliding into his waiting palms. He had gotten rid of one, but there were way more than usual. Wherever they had stumbled into, it was not good.

“Shit!” Karlach swore loudly as more shadows appeared after the ones they downed. Continuing to converge around you, drawn to your huffs of pain and blood. Your blood, the scent that was usually so sweet in his nose but now had dropped an anchor in his stomach. There was too much of it, much too fast.

“Watch out!” Wyll shouted in warning to the vampire, before sending several of his powerful red blasts soaring out of his hands.

With a glance to his side, the rogue twirled around Lae’zel’s strong, cleaving swing with ease before releasing his daggers once again at the creatures advancing on you. But he threw them a moment too late — their clawed strikes sinking deep into you before the magical daggers ripped through them and back into his hands.

The sound of your knees crashing into paved stones made Astarion's teeth chatter. His heart lurched into his throat, your name choking out of him as he screamed. He had never moved so fast — it almost seemed like he had blinked across the battlefield like Gale so often did.

“RAHHHHH!” The booming roar of Karlach echoed in his ears as she raged from seeing you fall. The rest of the party converging on the remaining shadow creatures attempting to surround your unconscious body, moving in sync with each other with a deadly precision.

Knowing that those creatures were being taken care off, Astarion fell to his knees next to you — his pale hands grabbing onto your shoulders. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

You didn’t stir, your head and limbs shaking loosely as he moved you. He dragged your head onto his lap, before unbuckling the holster on his belt. He tipped the the precious red liquid from the healing potion between your lips. He said your name, running his thumb across your face.

You didn’t stir.

“Darling?”

His red eyes studied you, your face looking lack luster and eyes remaining closed. Your hands laying limply at your side, unmoving. He couldn’t hear the familiar thrum of your heart.

No, no, no, no.

“Astarion?!” Gale shouted, his voice exhausted and strained as he split his concentration just enough to check on you two.

The world tilted as the wizard instead shouted for you. But you couldn’t respond... because you were —

“You can’t die, dammit!”

Suddenly, you were all bathed in a golden light for a moment as Shadowheart brought down a thunderous strike of radiant energy, defeating the remaining shadow creatures as they shrieked in pain. Then the sound of thudding metal and footsteps as the party surged forward to you, panting for breath.

Wyll’s eyes went wide with worry as he saw you unmoving, his hand covering his mouth,“ Are they—?”

Astarion looked up at his party with bleary eyes, his hands trembling as he held your face on his lap. “They won’t wake up. I tried, I gave them a potion and they—“

“Oh gods.” The Blade choked out, his face immediately crumpling.

Gale shook his head, immediately dumping the contents of his side satchel onto the dirt. Scrambling through them, “No, no, we can do more! I’ll have a scroll or, or — Shadowheart!!”

The cleric had remained in the back, her face half covered in shadow. Her nostrils flared as she looked down at you. But she made no move forward.

Astarion’s red eyes pierced through her, before narrowing, “Bring them back.”

She didn’t move, her face blank. “My goddess will not allow it.”

“Princess! What are you talking about?” Karlach tried to grab her hand, but Shadowheart pulled away. “It’s Giggles!

Her black braid swayed back and forth as she shook her head, taking one step back. “She is Shar’s enemy. She is my enemy.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your goddess.” The vampire spat, his lips curling, “Bring. Them. Back.”

“I—" A moment of hesitation as her voice shook and her eyebrows furrowed.

Gale let out a shaky breath, his fingers pushing back his long hair. His brown eyes were shining with fear. “I have no scroll, I—“

“We are running out of time!” Lae’zel finally spoke out, glaring at Shadowheart. “Do something now, istik.”

Astarion voice was deadly, his fangs baring as he shout out. “If you don’t do this. If you let them die— I will hunt you down and become your worst nightmare. I will fucking haunt you! BRING. THEM. BACK.”

“Shadowheart, please.” Karlach whispered, finally getting ahold of the half-elf’s hand.

Conflict flickered across her face, before she stepped forward. She crouched next to you, bowing her head as her hands began to glow with golden light. Her small hands rested on your unmoving chest, before the light disappeared into you.

A loud gasp escaped you as come back to life. Your hands finding purchase in the dirt as your eyes snapped open wide with fear and uncertainty.

Astarion let out a loud breath, tipping his head back with a silent thank you to anything that was listening.

The sigh of relief echoed throughout the entire party. Minus the dark haired cleric, who stood up quietly. Her throat bobbed as a hard to read look crossed her face and she backed away.

“I— what, what happened?” You asked groggily, your eyebrows meeting in the middle from confusion.

“You scared us Giggles.” Karlach sniffed, “Thought we’d lost you for a second there…”

“I… I was gone?” You craned your neck, looking up at Astarion, alarm etching every feature of your face.

He opened his mouth, but no words could come out. Fear and panic still held a tight grasp around his throat.

“For but a moment.” Gale stepped forward, his voice practiced but reassuring. “Shadowheart brought you back.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as you fought instant tears, before you croaked out, “Thank you.”

A quiet grunt is all you got in reply from her.

You sat up gingerly, Astarion grabbing your elbow to steady you. Your blood and the strange ichor from the shadowy creatures was clingy to your clothes. You were shivering — a combination of the cold and from the knowledge that just mere moments ago you had been dead. The vampire had undone the clasp of his cloak and was wrapping it around you before you could say no.

“I think it’s best we head to camp. We will take the paths we know.” Gale spoke up first, gathering the contents of his satchel that he had spilled across the ground.

Karlach took your pack from you, slinging it across her back with ease. “Fangs, help me get them up.”

He rushed to his feet, gently pulling you up with him. You swayed for a moment, but your fingers tightly found his forearm to keep you steady. “Thank you,” You breathed.

Him and Karlach slowed their pace to match your weak steps as you walked between their sides, both of their arms wrapped around your waist. Gale was leading the way with Wyll at his side, his staff a shining beacon as the two kept their heads on a constant swivel. Lae’zel brought up the rear, her sword remained out as her eyes narrowed on the huddled form of Shadowheart. The cleric’s arms were hugging herself as she kept her eyes on her boots.

Astarion couldn’t help but count your heartbeats, the rhythm now steady and thumping like normal. He needed to recommit the sound to memory. If only to drown out the reoccurring one of hearing it stop.

• • •

You were much quieter than usual, the lute you would strum by the campfire abandoned. Your eyes were blank as you stared into the flames, licking and dancing across the logs. You were miles away, your half-full dinner plate forgotten at your feet and now licked clean by the camp dog and owlbear.

Shadowheart and Karlach had almost immediately retired to the latter’s tent — still in there now, speaking in hushed whispers that even Astarion’s elven ears could not pick up. Lae’zel was sitting on her perpetual watch, her sword balanced across her knee as she polished it. Wyll sat closest to the fire, using the warm light to inspect a map of Moonrise Towers you had found today — making marks and notes, strategizing the best way to rescue the lost Tieflings and his father. Gale was dutifully at your side, sharing the log bench and reading quietly — his mage hand holding the book up for him and turning the pages.

Astarion watched from a far, sitting at his own tent. He was not interested in feigning conversation. But he wasn’t interested in his own activities either — the book he had open on his lap had been on the same page since he first sat down. Instead, he was watching you carefully.

The scene from earlier in the day was repeating in his mind, he couldn’t shut it out. Not just the sound of your heart stopping, or the scent of your life blood draining out of you. But how you had clutched to him as you journeyed back to camp. That the trembling in your lip would stop when he looked over to give you reassurance.

You had slipped into a deep shock when you arrived in the familiar comforts of camp, almost instantly dissociating once you breached your group’s makeshift home. Gale had swooped in then, his mother-hen behavior taking over as he ordered you to change while he cooked.

So, the vampire had slipped away. Disappointed to no longer be needed. Wishing he too could dissociate or play healer or anything, something to just stop his racing thoughts and pained heart.

His pointed ears perked as you spoke.

“I’m going to go for a walk along the river.” You said suddenly, breaking the quiet that had been settled around the camp for hours. You braced your hands on your knees as you stood up from the bench.

“Do you need company?” Gale asked from your side, already starting to stand up to join you.

“I’m okay, just going to the dock… to collect my thoughts.” You didn’t notice the hurt in the wizard’s eyes as you rejected him. No, your eyes were searching around the camp, looking for something. Someone.

They settled on Astarion.

He raised a single white eyebrow, your eyes never straying from his. A silent invitation, maybe? To join you on the dock.

You gave the smallest indication, a tilt of your head that anyone else would have missed. Then you were off, heading across the camp before turning toward the tree line closest to the river.

He waited for a moment, as to not make it obvious. Perhaps to spare Gale’s feelings, that you had silently asked him to go, and not the wizard.

“Off to get lucky?” Wyll asked as the vampire marched by.

“Wh—what?” He stuttered, steps faltering as he turned to look at his companion still sat on the dirt by the fire.

“Gonna try your luck with a hunt?” The warlock rephrased, looking up from his stacks of maps and parchment.

“Oh. Yes. That’s it, ‘hunting’.” He waved his hands and did a funny little bow, before turning on his heel. When had he become such a terrible liar?

With a practiced lazy grin, he bid the rest of his companions a quick farewell before following the trail into the tree line as you did.

The docks weren’t far from camp. A few minutes journey down a well-walked dirt path through the sparse woods led him to the quiet river.

You were already sat on the wooden dock, your boots half hazardously tossed behind you and your feet hanging in the water. Your head was tipped back, arms stretched behind you as you seemingly basked in the silence. Astarion made purposeful loud steps, causing the wood planks to creak. To announce himself, to avoid startling you.

You didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Instead you merely opened your mouth to speak, “Hello, Astarion.”

Oh, how he loved it when you said his name like that. Like you had been waiting for only him.

“Darling.” He drawled from behind, standing carefully next to you.

You turned your face so you were now looking up at him instead of the dark sky, “Thank you for knowing I wanted you here. I didn’t want to announce it.“

A smirk quirked his lips, “Good, I can still read you then.”

You looked at him quizzically, “Have you been having difficulty doing that lately?”

“You…, He cleared his throat, “You have been keeping me on my toes, yes.”

A cheeky smile spread across your face, your eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, you must hate that.”

Yes, he did. He rolled his red eyes at you, “I certainly haven’t been bored since I met you.”

You both let out chuckles, before you patted the spot next to you on the dock. “Sit with me?”

He joined you, removing his own boots and rolling up his pants to sink his legs in the water. But then he paused, his pale feet hovering above the blue water. “What creatures lurk in this river, do we know?”

“Oh, don’t be a scaredy-cat.”

Astarion huffed before placing his feet in. He hissed from the cold temperature, but after a moment it felt refreshing on his tired and sore feet. A relaxed sigh escaped him, and his shoulders lowered slightly.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. Then he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, but was careful to not get caught. “How are you feeling?”

You blinked at the question. “I— I’m not sure how to answer that. Okay, I think. Are you?”

“You scared me today.” He admitted without thinking, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your fingers kneading the flesh of your thighs.

“I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to… Just never do that again, ok? I know you did nothing wrong and you were just standing there but don’t ever put yourself in a situation like that again.”

Your brows met in the middle, your mouth turning into a frown. “The path we are on is a dangerous one, Astarion… I can’t—“

“No. Nothing can happen to you. I won’t allow it.” His voice cracked, so he swallowed some of the emotion down. “So stay at the back, behind me, I don’t know. But I will not witness what I did today again, you understand me?”

“Okay,” You submitted with a nod, “It’s all still very hazy for me…”

“It was terrifying. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that.” He chewed his inner lip, surprised at the confession that had just hurled out him.

A haggard breath left you, before you abruptly stood up. You started to fumble with the buckle of your pants, staring out into the river as you took it off and tossed it behind you.

He watched you with confusion, “What in the hells are you doing?”

“I want to, I don’t know, feel alive. I need to reset. I can’t get the feeling I had when I came back out of my chest.” Astarion knew that feeling, had felt that feeling. And it still resurfaced sometimes.

You peeled off your shirt next, then your trousers, the clothes falling in a small pile at your feet — until you were suddenly stark naked standing on the edge of the dock.

Astarion did his best to hide his awe at you, standing confidently above him — completely nude and bathed in the dim evening light. You stood there for a moment, your chest rising and falling as you took quick breaths. “Well?”

With a sudden leap you jumped into the water, a joyful yelp escaping you as you splashed into it.

“Have you gone mad?!” He asked after you, holding his hands up in defense of the cold water that splashed from your movements.

“Yes! Join me in my madness.” You said with a loud laugh, the musical sound ringing in his ears. You threw your head back, your bare chest exposed as you flopped backwards and began to float in the water.

He looked at you like you were demented. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Astarion, come in. There are no ghouls or creatures. It’s nice.”

He set his jaw, his words coming through his gritted teeth. “I can’t — I haven’t swam in two hundred years.”

“Oh.” You realized, before standing in the water to show him, “It’s like the baths we took near the grove. You can touch the bottom, I’ll help you.”

His red eyes couldn’t resist roaming your wet figure, backlit in the evening light in front of him. Then he snapped his eyes away, turning his nose up, “You’re intolerable.”

“You love it. Now get that stubborn, pale ass in here.”

The vampire huffed as he stood up, “Hmmph, it’s a good thing you’re pretty, you know. Or everyone would reconsider why they condone your behavior.”

You flashed him a smile, before turning around and dunking your head into the water — giving him privacy to undress.

The vampire slid off his clothes, carefully piling them next to yours before staring down into the dark blue water.

Fun. That’s what you were searching for. Just a moment, a thrill. It wasn’t a distraction like what he had tried to do in the Last Light Inn. It was.. an escape. He could do that for you. It was probably one of the few things he could afford you.

“Oh hells,” He hissed through his teeth before jumping in after you.

Even as a cold-blooded creature, the water was a shock to his whole system. He felt goosebumps cover all of his flesh, his muscles drawing taught from shock. But as he surfaced and saw the delight flickering in your eyes, he instantly warmed. “Are you happy now, you wretched little thing?”

You didn’t reply, instead grinning and nodding childishly.

“Good.” He smiled back, “Now, what?” His feet could indeed reach the bottom, he stood in it, the water gently moving over his shoulders and collarbones in the lazy current. It was nice, but foreign — a sensation he was still trying to grow used to after all this time.

You bit your lip and shrugged, beginning to swim in a slow circle around him. Before sending a large splash of water over him.

“My hair!” He cried out, before his eyes narrowed and settled on you. “You minx, you’ll pay for that.”

Another laugh escaped you as you tried to outmaneuver him, your wet arm slipping through his hand as he tried to grab you. So he instead launched a counter wave back at you, splashing water across the back of your head.

“Muahaha!” The vampire let out, his grin spreading across all of his features.

Your smile was contagious, addicting. He could feel strain on his face from his own smile as he laughed with you, the longest a genuine one had been plastered on his face for centuries. The two you played in the shallow river, splashing and shrieking like children. It was liberating, he had never felt more free. Not even the day when he had realized he hadn’t perished from the sun’s attention. This was somehow better.

His wet, pale hand caught your wrist as you went to slide past him in your game of chase. You swallowed slowly, your plump mouth hanging open slightly as he tugged your closer to him — drawing you nearer until you were face to face.

Your eyes were hooded, staring at his mouth. But not possessively, not with the hunger and objectification he was used to. But with longing? How long had you been looking at him like this?

He tilted his head forward, meeting you halfway as yours lips pressed into his carefully. A soft groan escaped you as you felt him kiss you back.

His pale fingers grabbed your naked waist, pulling you into him so your bodies were flush — your chest cold and hard from the water pressed into his own. His fingertips dug into your fleshy side as you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth to him. Your hands trailed up chest, your fingers tips playing with the sensitive skin on the nape of his neck and moving into his hair. Your touch gentle yet firm — it was maddening.

It had been sometime since you’d touched each other like this, but there was something different tonight. Arousal was flooding through him, his lower belly tightening and warming as he hardened against your thigh. Gods, did he want you right now. And not to perform, not his almost ritualistic routine for Cazador’s prey. He just wanted you, needed you for only himself.

As he felt you push into him more, a low moan escaped him.

But then he felt a familiar shiver travel up his spine, disgust — not at you, or him. But at the tainted act. Haunting memories of back alleys and side rooms flooded through him.

Gods dammit.

He had wanted this — to kiss you, to be with you. To indulge for just a moment in you, even though he knew he could never truly have you. A temporary bliss to sate his thoughts of you, his need for you.

Loathing burned through him for ruining the moment. So, instead he tensed his jaw, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued. He could persist, he insisted to himself as his hold on your waist tightened.

You two had barely kissed twice more before you pulled away, completely breathless. You caught your breath, before looking up into his eyes, “I don’t want to go any further tonight, I’m sorry.”

He froze, before his fingers immediately left your waist. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no! You’re wonderful. Just… a lot happened today, and I’m still overwhelmed I think. I hope you understand.”

He understood more than he could bare to say. “Of course.”

He’d never thought to just ask to stop. He never had the choice, the free will to. If he stopped he would have no prey for his master. Then he would be punished. And the punishment that Cazador would doll out for him was a much worse abuse then enduring the practiced torture he did with his victims. So he had just done it…

But you had asked. You had listened to yourself, and your wants and had stopped. You were vulnerable and honest in a moment of passion. You trusted him to listen.

You trusted him.

“And don’t apologize. Not for that.”

You pecked him on the cheek — your lips incredibly soft, it was only a puff of air across his skin. “We should probably head back — the others might be worried.”

He blinked back to reality, nodding along as different thoughts and memories flooded him. “The others, right.”

You both got dressed quietly, your clothes sticking to your damp skin and hair. You began to walk back towards the forest line, the dirt path leading back to camp looming in front of you.

Astarion glanced over at you, but blinked as he had realized he caught you staring at him. Your cheeks flushed brightly, before you ducked your head.

“Gale told me about what you did for me today.” You said quietly as you walked, your eyes fixed on the trail and hands twirling nervously at your side.

His steps slowed behind you, “Oh.”

You turned to face him, your eyes soft yet wide, “Shadowheart may have cast the spell. But you… you’re the reason why I’m here. Thank you for fighting for me.”

His heart thudded, as he felt an overwhelming urge to go to you. To hold you like he had in the river. His fingers twitched at his side as he instead swallowed and spoke, “Of course. You would have done the same.”

The sounds of the camp began to trickle down the trail, soft chatter by the fire could be heard from here. Surely meaning that any thing said between you now could also be overheard. You seemed to realize this as well as you turned back to him one last time.

“Astarion,” You called back. Every time you said his name, it was like a piece of him that he had long forgotten about came back to life. “I’m very glad I met you.”

He thought of all the moments that led to this one. Dying in that dirty, dark alley. Clawing his way out of his own grave. Two hundred years of misery, and begging, and torture. To the nautiloid and the god damn worm slithering in his head. And then to you — under him with his knife to your throat on the cliffside, flushed and dancing at the Tiefling party, sleeping soundly next to him in the inn. And to now, staring at him with your soft eyes and smile, your sweet laughs and touch still echoing in his ears and across his skin.

Maybe the gods had answered his calls after all — if he had been fated to meet you along.

“So am I,” He smiled back.

Continue to part III here!

[heyhilana]

Sink in (Max Phillips)

Summary: Your job changed overnight with the arrival of your new boss, Max, as he was blurring every line with you, and your once tolerable co-workers have turned into living nightmares. But a chance meeting in Max's office reveals everything about the true nature of your job.

A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope everyone is having a great holiday season and a great new month overall 💙 This was originally slated for Halloween, but I just finished it yesterday, whoops. Anyway, this is a new venture for me as I have never written for Max before, but I figured why not? So enjoy this and drink lots of water 💚

Pairing: Max Phillips x !f reader

Warnings: (uhm...don't call me out) Just blatant filth. Breeding, vampire biting, squirting, oral (m kinda and f receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), spanking, fingering, heavy creampie, mentions of male masturbation, female masturbation.

Word Count: 7k

Masterlist

You were walking to your car, thankful for your lunch break as all your coworkers within the past week had turned from tolerable to unbearable. Andrew, who you could usually ignore, was itching to be at your throat over the smallest issues. Your boss, Ted, was strangely happy about the change in his employees, although you couldn’t figure out why. Tim and Evan were trying to convince you to leave your job as Max’s secretary as they were convinced something was wrong, but they couldn’t prove anything, so you dismissed it. The most perplexing of it all was Max, your new boss, who took a special interest in you that you were finding hard to ignore or even dislike.

Max was charismatic, to say the least. Sure, he was hard to figure out, so you never knew if his nature with you was professional or blurring the lines of attraction, but it made your job less mundane. Max kept you on your toes, and from the way he looked at you, you wondered if there could be more with your boss if you did move to a different sector. But based on the rumors swirling around in the legal department, you would rather work under Ted as the legal department would’ve brought you more boredom than before.

You stepped out of the door and saw Frank at his regular post.

“Going on your break?” Frank asked.

“Yeah. I need it since everyone’s so weird up there.” You answered.

“Well between you and me, I believe Evan and Tim.” Frank whispered, and you were unsure about why he was whispering when no one was around. 

“I would too, but they haven’t proven anything.” You responded, and Frank looked at you as if you were a goner.

“Suit yourself. But I’m prepared for anything.” Frank tapped his chest, and from then on, you knew to never cross him, literally and figuratively.

You faked a smile for good measure. “I’m sure you are. See you in a bit.”

“See ya.”

You shook your head and walked off, convinced that even with Frank still acting the same, there were still a few screws that were loose in his head. Still, you weren’t able to shake the feeling of your entire company turning into a group of paranoid psychos. But to take your mind off things, You checked the clock and saw you had 25 minutes to eat, figured out if you wanted to leave and never come back, and possibly relieve yourself as the moments before you walked out the door left you questioning your self-control. 

-

You walked into the elevator and hit the basement level and the close doors button to get down as fast as possible. But a pair of hands slid between the doors as they were about to close.

“You didn’t think you would get away from me that easily now?” Max asked with that familiar mischievous smirk on his face.

“I wasn’t trying to, sir.” You answered, holding your bag a little tighter for your sanity.

“What did I tell you about using sir? I’m your boss, but I’m not Ted.” Max reminded you, and somehow, you knew that calling him Max would blur the already murky lines between you two. But calling him sir riled him up, and you liked seeing him like that.

“So I should call you Max then?” You asked, and you noticed how Max raked his eyes up and down on you.

“Yeah. It rolls off your tongue better.” 

Oh. Suggestive words in an elevator that made it harder to ignore him? Amusing, really. 

“S-Max.” You corrected yourself.

“Atta girl.” Max clicked his tongue, and you were thankful he replaced good with atta, or else you would’ve turned into a puddle. 

To save yourself, you changed subjects. “Where are you headed off to?”

“I gotta get something from my car. You’re off to lunch?” He pointed to your big bag.

“Yep. I need it since I’ve been working since I got in at 8 and it’s 12 now.”

“You’re the best worker we have, even without being turned.” Max complimented you, but you couldn’t make out the last part.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. But you got a little something on your shirt.” Max pointed to your chest.

“Oh, where is it?” You tried to look down, but his hand was already on you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you.” Max flicked off a chip crumb that was on you, but then he moved up to your collarbone, flicking something else off as well. His fingers were dangerously close to your neck, and you realized he could grab your neck right now if he inched up any higher.

“D-did you get it?” You interrupted, and when you looked into Max's eyes, you thought you saw a twinge of red before it reverted to its normal color.

Max cleared his throat. “Yeah, it was just a little something that wasn’t in one spot.” 

“Well, thank you.” You were relieved that the heat you felt on your face wasn’t as visible as the elevator had dim lighting. And speaking of the elevator, it dinged finally for the ground level for you to leave unscathed.

“Anytime. And is that a new perfume you put on today?” Max asked as he walked out with you. 

“Yeah. But you know my old perfume?” You were perplexed, wondering why he would notice such a minor detail.

“Mhm. I always smell it on you when you walk in and I enjoy it every time. But I like this new one too..” He answered before taking a left, leaving you stunned and slightly aroused. 

-

You tried to keep yourself composed while you ate your food, with somehow the savory flavors of your comfort meal not doing enough to keep your mind off Max. Did he have to say he enjoyed your perfume? Did he have to touch you in that way, even letting his thumb ghost your skin? Most of all, did he have to eye fuck you at every moment possible? A boss like Max was a dream come true and a curse because he was forbidden fruit. Everything you wanted, your mind told you no. But your desires, oh, they loved to toe the line of professionalism and uncontrollable impulses. Look, but don’t touch. Touch, but don’t taste. Taste, and now you’ll be unable to draw the line again. 

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Now, you resorted to finishing your lunch quickly and setting everything off to the side so you could slide your seat back for your daily venture into your deepest fantasies of Max. What you didn’t anticipate, however, was Max walking near your car as he took the opposite direction to go back into the building. He saw you were in your car, and he moved quickly, hiding behind the pole so that you couldn’t see him, but he could definitely see a glimpse of your body. No one else was near except you two, and you were blissfully unaware of his presence as he stayed out of eyesight. You unbuttoned your shirt, giving yourself some breathing room since you knew it would get hot and heavy in your car. Your bra would have to stay on this time, but it didn’t keep you from pulling your breasts out, letting them fall out of your shirt. Next, you pulled up your skirt and slid your panties off, thankful that this was one of the days you opted for skirts so it would be easier to access. Max couldn’t see as much as he wanted to of your face, but he could definitely hear the moans from inside your car once your fingers slipped in between your glistening folds. 

Barely through with your shift, you were going through another pair of panties, but that didn’t stop you from teasing yourself. It was important to build up your orgasm long before you chased it so you could replay the day’s events one by one until you were coming undone from everything all at once. That was why every soft pinch and grip on your nipple, every swipe of your index finger on your clit, and every pump of your fingers inside your hole was worth teasing yourself for because you thought of him. It was impossible not to fantasize about him finally teasing your breasts as you caught him staring at them one too many times during ‘important’ conversations about work. It was inevitable to dream about his skillful tongue that he used for flirting would be equally useful in licking up and down your slit, gathering every drop of your elixir. Hell, you were going right down that dangerous path of imagining what his plump lips would feel like kissing both your vertical and horizontal lips, plus that little bud that laid right in between your vertical ones that would be a treat to feel him suck on. And the two you saved for last, even with them being the best, was his pulsing tip pushing right up on your clit and tapping it, and finally, feeling soul-snatching strokes right after to make you undoubtedly his. 

That was why time went fast for you as you were knuckle deep in your pussy, feeling how wet you were and letting those wet sounds, along with your moans fill the car up. But for Max? Oh, he was in for the show of a lifetime as he felt his cock stretch his boxers and press prominently against his trousers. It was taking everything in him not to knock on your door, get inside, and fuck you right in the backseat. For one, he could smell it from a mile away that you were still a virgin. Perhaps it shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but knowing that you were the last one unturned, that he saved for last, and you were a virgin, it was the icing on the cake for him. But he didn’t want to interrupt you. He found watching you without you knowing to be erotic beyond his imagination. A voyeur enjoying his prospect’s desires and seeing how hard and fast you were going, all with the thought of him on your mind, was an ego boost along with an insatiable appetite that would culminate within the day. In his mind, he was begging you to cum all over his cock. In your mind, you were wishing he was telling you to cum for him. 

It was a chant that rang through both of your heads, with your walls tightening up and his one thread of self-control threatening to snap if this went on a minute longer. But neither of you had to wait much longer once you let go. Your seats that were evident of your arousal were drenched more as you half moaned, half screamed accidentally as you wanted to keep it down. But Max enjoyed everything about it. He wanted to take you there and higher as soon as possible, but he had to wait for the right time. It was hard not to cum in his boxers at how hard you came, but he was sure the precum clung to his boxers from the whole time he stood there watching you.

Once he saw you were cleaning up, he disappeared quickly so you wouldn’t see him. You cleaned up your mess and got dressed again, seeing you had five minutes to spare, which would put you in the nick of time to return to your cubicle. But while you cleaned up your seats, you wondered what would happen if Max did approach you. Would you accept? Deny? It was hard to say, given that your job would be at risk, but this torment of getting off in your car was hard to keep up with. Alas, you shrugged it off as it would never happen given that he could have anyone he wanted, giving you a false sense of reality once you were decently presentable for work again and could resume your duties. On the other hand, Max had other things in mind for you once the end of the day came around.

-

You looked at the clock and saw it was 10 minutes, close to 7, with your coworkers upstairs for an HR meeting. However, Max asked you to stay behind and finish some work. Just as you were done, Max opened his door.

“Hey, do you mind coming in for a second?” Max asked.

“I’ll come in. I’m also done with the work now.” You got out of your chair and pulled down your skirt, noticing that Max was watching your every move.

“See, this is why you’re my top girl.” Max winked at you, making you avert your eyes as he looked damn good with his suit jacket off and his shirt undone. You walked in as he held the door for you, and when he followed, his hand ghosted the small of your back, which made your hair stand up. He closed the door behind him as you walked to his desk.

Max clasped his hands below his stomach. “Do you know why you’re here?” 

I know what I would love to be in here for.

“To go over my work?” You asked.

Max tsked as he walked over to you. “I know you’re a little naïve, but that pretty head of yours can give me a better answer than that.”

There were a few thoughts rearing to the front of your head, but you wouldn’t dare utter them. “Well, what else could it be?”

“I can give you a few ideas,” Max took his hand into yours, rubbing his thumb over your skin as he looked into your eyes. “You’re a very hard worker, you’re at my beck and call whenever I please, and there’s something else about you that I can smell on you.” 

“My perfume?” You tried, and Max shook his head. 

“No. Something else that is a little harder to smell.”

For a moment, you were too distracted by how he licked his lips to understand what he was saying. 

“What would that be then?”

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Max went straight for it, and it caught you off guard.

You cocked your head to the side, unaware that the small move left him twitching in his pants. “That’s a bit personal to ask, don’t you think?” 

Sure, draw the line of professionalism when you already made a mistake coming into his office with no one else around. 

“It is, but you liked it.” Max saw right through you, given that it was hard to ignore the way your thighs closed together against him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feigned confusion, but there was no use. 

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Max continued, baiting you into his trap.

“Not at all.”

“Okay, I’ll spell it out for you.”

Max took his other hand and parted your thighs without much effort, showing that he had a lot more strength than you anticipated. His fingers danced along your skin, making you breathe deeply as you felt him getting closer to your core while never breaking eye contact. But Max was surprised when his fingers reached up, and he felt nothing but your soft, bare skin that covered the slick that had been growing since you returned to your desk.

“Commando at work? Seems you took my relaxed work outfit memo a little bit further than I thought.” He joked, and if you weren’t in this position, you would’ve laughed. “But just so you know, I know that you’ve been getting off to me in your car.”

“I haven’t been-“ You tried to lie, but Max slapped your folds. 

“Don’t lie to me. I saw you in your car fingering yourself, your shirt undone and those pretty breasts of yours on display. I knew exactly what you were doing, and you can’t deny it because I watched every second until you came.” 

Fuck, I’m caught. But why does it feel so good to be caught?

You were intrigued, embarrassed, and aroused all at once. “Then why didn’t you come and knock my car?” 

“Didn’t want to ruin the show. Besides, hearing you moan my name thinking that no one could hear was invigorating.” Max answered as he pressed further in between your folds, now feeling how wet you were from the ordeal.

“Sir,” You tried to take a step back, but he knelt down before you, letting go of your hand to push your skirt all the way up past your ass. 

“Oh? We’re back to formalities now? Because I think with my fingers in between these pretty lips of yours, you won’t be able to lie anymore.” 

His fingers were pressed up against your hole, slick coating the tips, and his face was inching forward to your clit, making it an unforgettable sight that you couldn’t say no and move away from. It would feel wrong to deny yourself what you desired, which is why you jutted your hips up to his lips to take slight control. Max laughed at your eagerness, relishing how you were giving in to him.

“Should’ve known you wanted to fuck my face,” Max muttered before moving in, and his fingers slipped deliciously inside you. His fingers were bigger than yours, which proved to be a deeper stretch than you were anticipating, but that slight pain melted away once you rolled your hips on his nose, using his face to get what you needed. Your hands went up to unbutton and discard your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your riled-up skirt and the heels you wore that accentuated your legs. The icy air in his office left your nipples rock hard, but it was a forgotten feeling as his hand reached up to your hip to slow your movements so he could kiss and suck on your clit. 

“Max, fuck you’re so good at this,” You praised, feeling him swirl his tongue around your clit and alternate to sucking, making your toes curl. Max fingered you harder than you did in the car, and you didn’t mind it at all. It was hot, feeling him toy with your body as he gave and took control over you at different moments, making you a pool of desire. Your sweet sounds filled up his office as your leg went over his shoulder and your ass was further on the desk. 

Max lifted up his head to look at you. “Look at how your body speaks to me. You couldn’t help yourself for a minute longer if I didn’t start.”

“I need you, Max. I can’t help it anymore.” The truth flowed out of you recklessly. Admitting that you were unable to control yourself around him was slightly embarrassing, but the look he gave you was undeniably hot and commanding.

“I can’t help myself either. Your pretty little pussy is delicious and I’m gonna ruin every inch of you on this desk. So lay back, and I’ll make you wish you did this sooner.” Max commanded, and you obliged, laying back with your ass off the table.

Max went back down quickly, his speed increasing more than you ever did to yourself. It was intense as he ate you out as if you were his last meal, the only meal he wanted to have if his life depended on it. His tongue drew shapes and letters on your clit that you couldn’t make out, but Max was marking you completely. There were shapes of hearts, triangles, circles, and stars that he alternated from to make you feel like you were floating on air. Max spelled submit, mine, mía, and forever, all because he wanted you desperately. To have you at his will, submitting to his ministrations, making you his, and soon, for all of eternity, seemed to be the gift that kept on giving to him, and he would continue to take it if it meant it was always with you. Max was everything you could’ve imagined and more, and despite your strong will from before telling you to stop, it was long gone as all you could do now was grip his desk and keep your hand over your mouth to keep the noise down. 

But your attempts to conceal your moans were futile as your orgasm was near. It was building in every fiber of your body, its power unwavering as it was more than you had ever experienced before. It was confusing, but Max knew exactly what he was trying to do to you. If there was one fantasy he had of you that never left his mind each time he stroked underneath his desk, it was making you squirt all over his face. Max would cum hard each time he imagined you squirting, with his face coated in your desire and drinking it all up. There were many ruined shirts at the thought of burying his face into your pussy, ignoring everything else in the world so he could be laser-focused on your moans and making you cum endlessly, as it got him off more than anything. Oh, that man would edge himself to the very end over wishing that he could hold you down and taste what was his. Gripping you like a vice in his mind and gripping his tip in reality, Max would mumble your name each time he spilled while hoping you would spill on his face one day. And now that this day was here, he was doing everything in his power to bring you to that peak he yearned for. 

You lifted your hand for a moment. “M-Max, please don’t stop it feels so good!” 

That was all Max needed to hear as he gave you everything, curling his fingers to pulse on your spot, beckoning you to let go all over. He sucked and swirled his tongue on your clit, never letting up as he wanted, no, needed to be drenched by you. And while it was hard to keep his fangs from coming out, as his desire for you often brought out his other side, he was determined to let you enjoy every second of this before he marked you permanently. 

“Max, I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered out before the electrifying feeling took over completely. 

Your thighs were clamped around Max’s head as you squirted all over him, and he nearly came in his pants. He pulled his fingers out of you to hold you up better as you were slipping, but he still licked up every drop and all on your slit to gently coax you into giving him more. You felt relieved, euphoric, and most of all, pleased above all your expectations as you made a mess on his face. It was endless, with the hairs on along your body standing tall and your hips rolling into Max’s face to use him for more. Max never wanted it to end, and there was only one thought that was on his mind;

Use my fucking face until I can make you cum again.

But, faintly, you could hear the elevator ding, which startled you out of your blissful high. You moved your legs, and Max got back up on his feet. You were frantic, not realizing that your extra time with Max exceeded the time for the HR meeting. Time was now of the essence as you pulled your skirt back down and fixed your shirt.

“I have to hide. Someone is on this floor and I can’t be seen like this.” You said.

“You can hide under my desk.” Max fixed his shirt and grabbed his suit jacket from the chair.

You went around, seeing a spot underneath where no one would see you. “Are you sure I’m going to fit?” 

“I’m sure you will. But you didn’t have to stop.” Max answered as he walked over to his chair. 

You were confused, knowing that there was definitely an unspoken rule about not hooking up with your boss that you broke. “I did have to stop. What if someone sees us and that costs us our job?” 

“Look, I don’t care who walks in and sees, baby. Let them see me in between your legs and let them see you bent over on this desk taking every inch of me.” Max pulled his chair out for you to get under.

“Max, what if it’s Ted?” You asked as you heard a knock on the door.

“I don’t care if it’s Ted. I want you, and I’m not letting him stop that. Are you going to let him?” Max questioned.

“No.”

“That’s my good girl. Now get on your fucking knees for me.” Max commanded.

His eyes were burning red, and you felt every compulsion to get underneath his desk, which was high enough for you to fit. Max slid in with his chair just enough to not box you in and kept his legs open for you once Ted walked in.

“Max! There’s my best worker.” Ted greeted as he closed the door behind him.

“How’s it going Ted? Was the HR meeting good?” Max asked as you took it upon yourself to unzip his pants. 

“It’s going well. Sales are through the roof, and everyone at the HR meeting was keen on making sure our numbers stay that way.” 

Even without seeing Ted, you knew that man had his mega-watt smile on his face that he only had when a big sale was made. But for Max, you could see that he was stifling a groan once you pulled his cock out of his pants. By looking at his cock, you realized why he was strained. It was thicker than you imagined. Pre-cum painted around his tip, his veins prominent, and a curve that you knew would hook inside you more than your fingers did. 

What did I get myself into?

“I’m glad that you’re getting what you want. What do you think the numbers will be at the end of the quarter?” The strain was evident in his tone, making you hide a giggle before you kissed the tip.

“These numbers will be the highest ever! I’ll- I mean we’ll be richer than ever!” Ted exclaimed, and you were sure Max wanted to do something similar based on how his thighs tightened once you sucked his tip gently.

“That’s all I want for us. Big numbers lead to big checks, and we get to expand and ensure that the train keeps going.” 

Max’s hand snaked up your head, pushing you to take more of him despite the risks. The stretch in your mouth tugged at your lips, and the stretch in your dripping pussy would be worthwhile. With how he felt in your mouth, you were confident that his width was much more desirable than length, and thankfully, he had both.

“But I have a question for you. Where’s your secretary?” Ted asked, and you pulled Max’s cock out of your mouth.

“Oh. She went home early for the day. Got sick with something she ate but she got all her work done.” Max lied.

“Well that’s good to hear. She was the only one that was missed at the HR meeting so I wanted to check in with you.” 

“Yeah. I’ll have her watch the recording of it when she comes in tomorrow. But is that all?” Max tapped his desk with one hand, and he moved his other hand away from your head.

“No. I was going to ask if you turned everyone, but you already answered that with letting her go home early.” 

In that second, you realized that Tim and Evan were right. What was more of a problem was that now you were trying to fight the urge to hit Max while Ted was still in the room. 

“Listen, I’m gonna get around to it.” Max reassured, but Ted’s sigh indicated that it was a futile attempt.

“I know she’s an efficient worker but sooner or later she’s going to find out.” 

“Ted, I’ve got it under control.” Max was stern, and you never heard him speak like that until now.

“If you say so, but if you don’t do it, I will.” Ted threatened as he turned on his heel.

“Don’t touch her.” Max warned, and Ted laughed in response.

“And what are you going to do about it? You work for me, not the other way around.” Ted corrected.

“But you need me more than I need you, and if I say to leave her alone, you don’t touch her. Or else would your wife like to hear about you sleeping with your secretary?” Max countered, and you covered your mouth in shock. 

“N-no.”

“That’s what I thought. Now are we done?” Max was livid, and if there was another word said than what he wanted to hear, he would blow a fuse. 

“Yes. I’ll leave you be.” 

Ted walked out fast and closed the door behind him, and you didn’t explode until you heard the elevator doors open and close to be sure that it was just the two of you again on the floor. Max zipped his pants up and moved out of the way for you. You climbed out angry, jetting for the door, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t leave. I’ll explain everything.” Max pleaded, but all it earned was a slap in the face.

“Max, you’re a fucking vampire! I don’t need to hear anymore to figure that out.” You exclaimed, and Max sighed. 

“Yes, I’m a vampire. But I was never going to turn you the way I did the others.” Max explained, and that earned a cold laugh from you.

“Oh, that’s so comforting, really.” 

Max pinched the skin in between his brows. “I was going to tell you before I did it.” 

“So I was supposed to just let you tell me with your fangs out and take two seconds to process that you’re a vampire and that I’m going to be one too?” You asked sarcastically.

“You’re clearly angry with me. Do you want to slap me again?” Max offered, and that threw you off.

“You’re offering me a slap?” You were bewildered, but you had to expect that from Max as everything he did was borderline unorthodox, and now you understood why that was.

“It seemed to work the first time. Besides, they don’t hurt anyways.” Max responded, and it was time for you to see red. You slapped him harder than the last time, and you saw that his eyes flashed red, but they went away quickly.

“I knew that would work. And now I have two questions for you.” 

You huffed, knowing that there was always a trick up his sleeve. “Do I have a choice in answering them?”

“You know the answer to that. Anyways, did you ever have a suspicion of me being a vampire? Or did someone tell you that I’m a vampire?” Max asked.

“That’s two questions right there.” You pointed it out, and Max rolled his eyes.

“Answer the fucking question.” He demanded.

“No. I didn’t have a clue.” You lied, and you soon realized your mistake once his eyes turned crimson red, seeing right through you.

His grip on your wrist tightened. “I’m going to ask you again, and don’t lie because you’re a terrible liar. Did you ever have a suspicion?”

“Yes.” You answered truthfully, and his eyes turned back to normal.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Max praised, and you were sure that while he was a vampire, there were a few screws loose in his head based on his demeanor.

“How did you know I was lying?” You asked. 

“Well, you are a terrible liar and I can also read your mind so that helps me.” Max smiled as he answered, and you sighed.

“Should’ve known you had powers.” You muttered, and Max smiled at your frustration.

“Comes with the job. Now, second question: does it turn you on that I’m a vampire?” Max continued with his eyes turning red, and you felt your cheeks burn. 

While you were livid moments before, there was something in seeing Max with glowing red eyes that made being angry with him a lost cause. It was hot, and you didn’t have it in you to lie to him now.

“Yes, it does turn me on.” You admitted, and Max’s smile turned into a smirk.

“I figured because I can smell that sweet desire on you. Also, I let go of your wrist and you didn’t notice.” 

You looked down and noticed that his grip was gone. But still, you felt a different grip that begged you to stay, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave as you had planned before. 

“I guess the questions took up all my focus.” 

“Or you want to stay so I fuck you against the wall.” Max suggested.

You were confused. “I didn’t say that just now.” 

“You didn’t. But you thought about it while you were working earlier.” Max clarified.

You shook your head. “And just how many times have you used these powers on me without my knowledge?”

“Since I met you,” Max grabbed your hand. “I know every desire, every orgasm, every dirty thought you had about me, and I’ve enjoyed all of them.”

“W-well, why did you wait until now?” You stuttered as your feet had a mind of their own and walked with Max to the wall. 

“I wanted to toy with you. Every flirtation, praise, and touch that I gave you, it was because of how proud I was of you, but also from noticing what they did to you. I enjoyed every time you clenched your thighs, the times you got off in your car and the moments you would remember the previous night when you got off to what I did. It all allowed me to build up our tension until it was impossible to ignore so I could bring you right here.” Max pushed you against the wall with your hand behind your back. It was exactly what you fantasized about earlier, and it showed his incredible attention to detail would be the death of you.

“Baby, please.” You begged, giving in to him as he pulled up your skirt again.

You heard him unzip his pants and let them fall to the ground. “Tell me exactly what you want.” 

“But you know it already.” You whined as Max’s cock reached your folds, pushing in between them to slide up and down your slit. From there, you could feel how big and hard he was, with his tip constantly brushing up on your clit, which made you rock your hips to match his speed. 

Max slid his hand in between your hands to grab his cock, tapping it against your clit with every word he spoke. “I want to hear you say it.” 

“Please fuck me against the wall. I need it, baby.” You pleaded, and soon, his tip was lined up at your hole.

Max placed his lips near your ear lobe, kissing it. “That’s my good girl.” 

Max entered you slowly, thankfully not letting his desire get the best of him. He was slow, methodical in gauging your pain, slowing up if you were uncomfortable. He kissed your ear, neck, and jaw as he entered, giving you a distraction as he bottomed out inside you. You tried to relax, allowing yourself time to adjust to his sheer size and breathing through it. 

“You’re doing great, baby. I promise.” Max praised as he pulled out, leaving just the tip to relieve you. You felt empty when he pulled out, and he pushed back in to fill you up again. It was sensual, with him thrusting slowly in and out, holding you close as he wanted to appreciate every inch of you. The feather-like kisses that adored your shoulder, neck, ear, and jaw were like fire on your skin, setting you aglow as you never wanted to forget what his lips felt like on you. 

Max grabbed a handful of your ass before smacking it, making you gasp. “Your body is perfect. I don’t know how I waited this long to have you.” 

“I don’t know how I waited either,” You responded, and soon you pushed back with your hips to match his thrusts as your discomfort transformed into pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so needy for me. You want more of me, don’t you?” Max thrusted faster, finally giving in to what he had been fighting.

“Max, I want everything. Please, give me everything.” 

Permission. That was all Max wanted from you when he called you into his office. Permission to ravish you just as you both had dreamed of and that was what set him off. In an instant, he thrusted faster, pushing you further into the wall to make you arch your back. His curve hooked more inside you, stretching you and getting closer to brushing up on your g-spot. Every vein rubbed against your velvety slick walls deliciously, making this sin of sleeping with a vampire worth every second of it. There was power behind every thrust, wanting to bottom out each time so your walls could hug every inch of him. 

You were utterly drunk off of him, becoming a loud whimpering mess that everyone could hear if they were on your floor. You didn’t try to cover your mouth or close it. You wanted Max to listen to what this was doing to you, and once you used your spare hand to spread your ass cheek, it pleased him.

“Look at you, spreading yourself wide for me to take every part of you. You’re such a pretty girl for me,” Max commented, making you clench around him. “Fuck, mami. You do that again and I’m gonna cum inside you.”

I really want him to cum inside me. Fuck, I want him to breed me, actually.

���Oh, you really want that.” Max noted, and you nodded frantically.

“Fuck, I do!”

“Can’t help it, can you? Laid out on my desk and squirting, sucking me underneath the desk to tease me, getting fucked against the wall, and now you want me to breed you. The pretty secretary getting fucked by her boss and begging to get filled up. Should’ve known you’re not as innocent as you look.” Max laid it out and showed how much you broke your rules for him, but you didn’t care. All it did was bring you closer to cumming to where your legs began to shake.

“Baby, I-I’m gonna cum again!” You cried out, and Max began to let his fangs grow in.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my cock for me, please.”

You immediately shut your eyes, letting go as you coated him and your inner thighs again. You took every thrust he gave you to fuck you through it, and the praise that he gave you was muffled due to your mind going blank. It was too good to think, and once he stalled his thrusts and you felt warm, thick ropes paint your walls, you knew that he was a goner as well. Max transformed as he came, giving you every drop so that you would be forever marked as his, but there was one last thing he had to do to seal it. 

You felt his lips against your neck, a light kiss that made you tilt your neck more to the side, giving him access. But then, you felt his fangs sink into your skin, the pain making you yelp as it stung, and you could feel him twitch inside you more from turning you. But it was hard to get mad at while he was pumping you full of his cum. Bred, turned, and marked by your boss. What more could you want based on your fantasies from earlier?

When he was close to finishing his mark on you, you felt drained initially, with your orgasm departing and your body momentarily falling limp. But that all changed in a split second when your eyes shot open, and you took a deep breath as your body changed from head to toe. Your energy rose, your strength increased, your entire being changed from that of a mortal and into an all-powerful entity. It was electrifying, and you only came down from that high when he pulled his teeth and cock out of you.

“You taste and feel wonderful.” Max complimented you as he turned you around.

“Thank you. Was that your plan all along?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“More or less,” He drifted off, looking at your amber-yellow eyes with satisfaction. “How do you feel?” 

“Different. I feel strangely more alive even though I’m now considered the living dead.” You joked.

“You’ll be fine. It becomes normal after a while, and then you’ll wonder why you had to wait so long to change.”

You cocked your head to the side. “So you don’t miss mortal life?” 

“What’s there to miss? I have a simple diet now, plenty of energy, and I have powers. There’s nothing special about being human when you get all of this from one bite.” He elaborated, and you loved seeing how passionate he was about his new lifestyle. 

“Well when you put it that way, I can see why you wanted to turn everyone here.”

“Well turning people I’m not turned on by isn’t exactly fun,” Max joked, cupping your cheek. “But turning you was very exciting.” He finished, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone.

“It was. Makes me wanna do it again.” You admitted bashfully.

“Who said I was stopping now? I’ve only just begun with you,” Max leaned into you, his lips ghosting yours.

“Then give me all of it, forever.” You whispered, and the kiss that followed left you weak at the knees and your heart soaring for eternity.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Love and War

Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter

Synopsis: Bob Floyd never expected to fall in love during the war, especially not with a pretty, young nurse during basic training. But love works in funny ways and can their love stand the rest of time, the war and the distance that separates them. Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Austria May to August 1945

Hitler was dead. The Germans had surrendered. The war was over in Europe.

Bob’s blue eyes gazed lazily over the tranquil landscape, the birds were singing, a light breeze brushing gently through the trees, the aquamarine lake was still. Bob couldn’t believe that in all the destruction they had witnessed a beautiful scene like this lay between all of it. After all this bloodshed somehow Easy Company had ended up in this paradise. The ruckus behind Bob pulled him reluctantly from his thoughts as Albert and several of the other paratroopers came running down the path, dressed in their PT kits and barefoot.

“Come on, Bob,” Albert called, racing down to the stone jetty. The paratroopers all pulled their white T-shirts over their heads before diving into the calm water below. A chorus of hollers and whoops followed as they began to slash around in the shallows, throwing water at each other.

A joyful smile spread across Bob’s lips, his eyes shining slightly with unshed tears. This is how their lives should be, young and joyful, living full and happy lives. They all deserved this after the years of their youth that had been stolen by this god forsaken war.

“Bob, come on!” George, one of the other paratroopers hollered, his boyish grin infectious. He reminded Bob a lot of Jackson, his youthful enthusiasm making them all feel younger than their years.

“Alright, i'm coming down,” Bob called, beginning to undo his uniform jacket as he made his way down the slope and towards the jetty. He pulled his clothes off quickly, leaving himself in just his underwear before diving into the cool water below. It was colder than he expected, taking a sharp intake of air as he resurfaced, coming face to face with the smiling men around him. Bob laughed loudly, throwing water at Albert, shouting gleefully. They spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and splashing around in the waters edge. By the time Bob and Albert were sitting back on the jetty their skin was pale and wrinkled from their time in the water.

“What will you do after this?” Albert asked, eyeing Bob curiously, squinting in the late afternoon sun.

“Probably get some food, I guess,” Bob sighed, toying with the wedding band hanging from his dog tags.

Albert groaned, letting out a light laugh, “no I mean after the war, when you go home.”

“I don’t know. We don’t even know if we are going home yet. Captain Nelson said that it’s highly likely we’ll be redeployed to the Pacific.” Bob sighed, he’d love more than anything to go home, back to the States with his wife. It had been five months since he’d last seen (y/n), since he’d last held her in his arms, kissed her. Bob dreamed of the day they would be reunited, finally able to be together as man and wife should be.

“But after that, well I’m gonna go home, back to Louisiana with (y/n). We’re gonna have a big house with lots of room for all our little Floyd’s.” Bob smiled at the image, thinking of (y/n) sitting on the swinging bench on the porch, a baby in her arms while she watched their other children playing in the garden, Bob by her side.

“Me too,” Albert replied, his eyes overcast and tearful. “You know I haven’t even seen my baby girl grow up. She’s gonna be four years old before I get home to her, I missed so much.” He let out a strangled sob, burying his head in his hands. Bob was a little stunned, in all that they had been through Albert had rarely cried, never showing his true emotions. Gripping hold of the man beside him, Bob pulled him into a desperate hug, ignoring the feeling of their damp skin against each other. He pressed a small kiss to the medic hair, cradling him, rocking him slowly. Before the war Bob could never imagine having this kind of connection with another man, he’d had male friends and they’d hugged each other before but with Albert it was different. He loved him. Not in the way he loved (y/n) but he loved him and he would die for him. Albert’s tears eventually slowed, his sobs becoming quiet mumbles into Bob’s chest. “It’s ok Albert, I’m gonna get you home to them. I promised you back at Toccoa I would. I’m not about to break that promise.”

Albert looked up at him, tear stained cheeks, his bottom lip wobbling slightly.

“Thank you, Bob. Thank you for everything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bob’s knuckles wrapped on the large oak door, waiting for a reply to enter. The voice from the other side was gruff but Bob knew that was just the way Nelson spoke to everyone.

“You wanted to see me, Sir,” Bob stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He removed his cap, tucking it into the belt of his uniform before saluting the Captain.

“Floyd, take a seat.” He motioned for Bob to take a seat on the otherside of the desk, perching on the edge of the chair in anticipation. Nelson took a log sip of his coffee, savouring the taste and almost killing Bob with the suspense. “Do you know why I called you here?”

“No Sir,” Bob replied hurriedly.

“I called you here because the army has a proposition for you, a battlefield commission to make you a Lieutenant if you’d like to pursue a career in the army after the war.” Nelson spoke firmly but his eyes shone with the unspoken adoration that he had for all his men. “You have proven yourself to be an exceptional soldier and an even more exceptional man. It has been an honour to serve beside you.”

“Sir, the honour has been mine…” Bob began but Captain Nelson raised his hand, cutting off his speech.

“Now don’t be so modest now, Sergeant. Now I understand that you have a wife, correct.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And I’m sure you are desperate to return to her.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But this is a great opportunity and one that I would not wish for you to pass over lightly but I do understand your situation. I haven’t seen my wife and daughters for God knows how long. I have missed much of their childhood and I would not wish that on any man.”

Bob nodded in agreement, he already knew his answer. “Truthfully Sir, I am honoured but I have fought long and hard for my country, I have bled and lost friends for my country and I would really like to go home to my wife.”

Captain Nelson nodded, “I suspected as much and honestly I cannot blame you. I wish you and your wife a long and happy life full of peace. Happy VJ Day Sergeant Floyd, you're going home.”

“Sir, is it… really?” Bob stared back in disbelief.

“Yes Bob, the war is over.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @bradshawseresinbabe @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @flyboyjake @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @roostette @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @shadowsintheknight @bcon24 @cassiemitchell @genius2050

[phoenixyfriend]

Star Wars AU Masterlist: Modern, Historic, Crossovers, and Otherwise Not Canonverse

(Excluding those found in the Ships list or meme fills)

Navigation Post

Fun fact, tumblr allows 250 links on the old editor and 100 in the new. So. Network of masterlists.

Organized as:

Modern (Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, TCW Trio, Lineage Members, Other)

History, fantasy, and non-standard modern AUs

Crossovers (Animated, Live Action SciFantasy, Live Action Realism, Books)

Crossover: Girl Genius

Crossover: Marvel

Crossover: Naruto

Modern AUs

Anidala: See Ships list

Mostly Ahsoka

* Modern AU Ahsoka forcibly adopts herself into the CodyWan household after falling into a mall fountain

Modern AU: Baby ‘Soka Bedazzles Boots

Ahsoka with henna

Ahsoka works at a raptor recovery center (Morai and Maul are both raptors there)

Ahsoka and Bo-Katan are college roommates

Wrestling AU

Mostly Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan gets an inheritance from his estranged, recently-dead grandfather

Obi-Wan and the “you gotta get married to inherit” plot

* Obi-Wan is a Parasitologist (2) - Additional: Anakin’s a Snake Guy

* Cody’s in Urban Development

Keep the CodyWan age difference, ye cowards, plus Obi-Wan as Cody’s Sugar Daddy

CodyWan with the age difference, and Obi-Wan is a parasitologist!

Codywan “My Soulmate is a Celebrity”

Optimal Codywan Dynamic

Not Just a RomCom: CodyWan AU that starts off romcom, but turns into an AU based on The Fire Within

Modern ObiMaul

* Stepsiblings! (Bant and Obi-Wan)

The Name Game

TCW Trio

Catburglar AU

Paranormal Home Inspector

Anakin introduces his little sister

Obi-Wan accidentally gets custody of a baby exchange student

Disaster Lineage Met Gala 2021 AU (Obi-Wan in Jean Robes by @masteryaddleisagilf)

Beekeeper AU

Still haven’t made this poll whoops

Anakin is trying so hard to dunk Mace at the high school fair’s dunk tank

Anakin has a crush on Cody. Cody starts dating Shmi and possibly Qui-Gon.

Other Lineage Members

Dooku and Ventress

Weird-ass marriage of convenience

Quintress “fall in love with the emergency worker who saved you”

Yoda breaks out of nursing homes

Modern Xanatos

Qui-Gon marries Mace Windu, who is now Anakin and Obi-Wan’s stepdad (and Depa is now their stepsister)

Qui-Gon is an office lunch thief

Other

Modern TBB Omega

Modern AU clones need to still have a Kind Of Weird childhood

Han Solo does stand-up comedy about his wife’s scary dads

Jewish Leia and lapsed Catholic Han

Three ST AUs: 1. Queer Eye helping Single Dad Luke, 2. Ben Solo/Poe Dameron HS AU, 3. The same, but College

Barriss has a crush on Anakin, set to the Victorious song “Best Friend’s Brother”

Artoo and Threepio are parrots

Maul’s prostheses: Gazelle from Kingsman, Elbow Crutches

Would modern AU clones refer to their dad as Sir?

Volleyball coach Siri Tachi

HISTORY/FANTASY/NON-STANDARD MODERN AUS

Regency AU - This AU is in the Wider AUs masterlist

Another Clone Wars Regency AU

Barmaid Ahsoka in a Generic Fantasy AU - This AU is in the Wider AUs masterlist

Not Quite a Man of God (demon-summoning AU) - Instructions Unclear

All the Jedi are Cats - Rex and Kitty!Soka

White dad in a horror movie

Suddenly Modern AU

Qui-Gon the Faustian Castle (and Obi-Wan, his caretaker)

Gothic Americana Disaster Lineage

Modern Ahsoka still gets to have Morai or Daughter in her life

Modern AU Daughter is a goddess who had her power stolen and is biding her time to rebuild her abilities on Earth. Ahsoka is her part-time gofer.

Maulsoka arranged marriage history AU

Earth’s Fossil Record - Legends canon - Chocolate

Obi-Wan is a horse girl and Anakin is a literal dragon

What if Obi-Wan Kenobi = Thomas Paine???

Regency AU: Palpatine tries to arrange a marriage for Rey

Crossovers

Animated

* Voltron/Star Wars: Obi-Wan/Coran

PMMM AU

Miraculous fusion fic - mostly just a “which Kwami” thing

Vader vs. Kira: Fight!

Ouran AU

Give Ventress a Death Note, which was originally mine but is mostly @epicmusic42

Rexidala but make them Happy Feet

Bleach: Anakin is a Vizard and his hollow mask is the Vader helmet

-

Live-action science fiction/fantasy

TCW/The Nevers

Good Omens AU, but like... not good

The Good Space - AU where Anakin watches in-universe The Good Place

TGP fusion fic  - all you need to know is that Hondo is Jason, R2 is Bad Janet, and Fox  is Matt (the accountant who handles weird new sex things)

Doctor Who AU: disaster lineage is all one series of regenerations

Sense8 AU (Anakin, Riyo, a Naboo handmaiden, Ferus, Barriss || Dooku, Sifo-Dyas, Jocasta || Obi-Wan, Satine, Hondo)- Grogu??

The Santa Clause AU

Anidala but they’re Lazslo and Nadja from WWDitS

Disney’s Atlantis

-

Live-action ‘realistic’

Miss Congeniality AU (Quintress)

Bridgerton Crossover - Aliens on the Ton  - Technically this is about the other Regency AU but meh

Midsomer Murders AU 1 - Anakin Kills Palpatine, and SW characters investigate

Midsomer Murders AU 2 - Anakin Kills Palpatine, and the canon Midsomer characters (in this case Barnaby and Troy) investigate

Midsomer Murders (disembodied dialogue about Ahsoka)

Project Runway AU

Qui-Gon is a nightmare of a guest judge

TCW Leverage AU - This AU is in the Big Leagues masterlist

Say Yes to the Dress

-

Books

Anakin & Obi-Wan in HP & the Prisoner of Azkaban

Post-O66 main cast dropped into HP & the Order of the Phoenix - This AU is in the Wider AUs Masterlist

Children of the Lamp AU

Obi-Wan + Newsies

Twilight & the Disaster Lineage

Dracula AU: ft. Lucy!Obi-Wan, Reverse!JonMina!Anidala, and Doctor!Quinlan

Jedi with Daemons

GIRL GENIUS

Anevka Meets Darth Vader (GG/SW crossover)

Anevka/Bo-Katan

Obi-Wan/Vanamonde von Mekkhan

Jedi!Tarvek AU

Stewjon is GG Earth (chrono), AKA the one where Obi-Wan is genetically predisposed to being a mad scientist - This AU is in the Wider AUs masterlist

Feemor is a Heterodyne

MARVEL

Jedi end up on the Helicarrier, awkwardness abounds because of Samuel L Jackson and Natalie Portman existing in both

Matt and Clint (Not quite a crossover, but clone OCs based on Daredevil and Hawkeye)

Peter Parker’s LEGO Palpatine

Ant-Man and the Star Wars Universe

Kix should be Falcon

NARUTO

Ninjas help out the clone wars

Obito bothers Darth Vader

Mandalore and Ninja Planet philosophy comparison (featuring at least one instance of me not understanding a SW thing)

Karin vs Anakin’s half-Force genome - Meet the twins

Bounty Hunter TenTen

TenTen reincarnates as Fox (CC-1010) mostly for the pun

Anakin and Harem no Jutsu

Planet Shinju

Ahsoka gets owl summons

[xarrixii]

Chapter_53 : "Parasite"

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CW: mention of negative side-effects scientific experiment archive masterlist | masterlist

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Alph wished they could’ve said they were looking out the window. That they knew where they were, knew the next highway they could cruise down without stopping for traffic.

They felt their hair scratch against their forehead. Could still see echoes of when everything had hit them like a brick, the recluse coming out of its shell.

The itch to call their dad formed a little too hard, and Alph turned their attention back to Afyer, who was humming the Kesha song playing on the radio and interrupted himself to cringe.

“You alright?” Alph lamented, hoping they could stop thinking for the next few hours at least.

Afyer turned the volume down as the song ended and an ad came on. “Yeah. Just this headache. Hasn’t let up yet.”

“You can pull over or park somewhere if you need to. We’re still near enough to the mall, right? We can always just have Mark walk some once he’s done and take over.”

“Nah, I’ll probably be fine. Think it’s just a pseudo-headache anyway.”

The first thing Alph thought of to say back was something they would’ve told Urban on one of his low days. But this was different. Alph wasn’t in the driver’s seat, and Afyer had a different tone.

Alph tried to squeeze out the thought. “What makes you think it’s fake?”

“It’s just a product of one of Storm’s experiments,” Afyer said without hesitation, sparkling with the same enthusiasm this music artist used talking about men and their fingers. “They’re trying to develop something more humane than the normal handcuffs used for kinetic users. You had a special name for them, right?”

“Hand binders?”

“Yeah, those.”

Alph’s heart panged. “What’s more human hand binders got to do with your headache?”

“Storm’s trying to make handcuffs, not binders. Maybe an ankle bracelet? I’m not sure, but they assured me it wouldn’t be like the rehab clinic I went to that one time. They handed me this metal block, and I immediately threw up when I touched it.” Afyer laughed at that, probably stealing a glance at Alph. Which only made Alph realize how agape they must look. “I don’t know what they did. Maybe it’s just a more concentrated version of the meds they give you after rehab when you keep touching the metal, maybe they found a new resource and have to tweak the alloy. Whatever it is, it seems, really cool, and the headache from not being able to connect to my pyrokinesis as long as I touched the metal is gonna be worth it in the long run.”

Alph was silent. Storm created something that blocked someone from their kinetic entirely? A physical thing?

“I thought kinetics were a genetic thing. Like, three genes involved in the process,” Alph said.

“That’s what I thought too. They haven’t told me how yet, probably because I talk too much, but they think they made the concentration too high on this first time, so they’re going to drastically lower it the next time I go in to help test it.” Afyer paused, listening to the radio for maybe five seconds. “Whoops, air quotes around concentration too high, there. I gotta start remembering that.”

“No, you’re good. But that’s…” Alph started thinking about all of the faces they could no longer see, the ones implanted in their brain for almost a decade. Children. Adults. Soup. The little boy who learned to stitch with his mouth. “That’s revolutionary, if they can get rid of the side effects but still have it work. Why wouldn’t Nacht tell me about that, because that’s—” Alph cut themselves off in their own bubbling excitement.

Afyer laughed with Alph. “Maybe he wanted to surprise you.”

Alph turned to stare at where Afyer would be sitting to the left, foot on the gas pedal and gazing forward into the colors Alph could barely make out. “You should probably pull over though. Headache and driving isn’t good.”

next chapter

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aaaawwaaaauuuuaa i'm running out of chapter ideas so it might start feeling rushed soon. sorry for my horrific schedule

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taglist: @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

My favorite fic of yours

This was actually not that easy to answer, but in the end I’ll go with 179 Crescent Street. This is how I found you, fell in love with your Mikey and then with all the other guys. 

My favorite chapter in my favorite fic of yours

Part 9 - Of Vice and Men - I mean, it’s Mike & Sy… Don’t need to say more

The best character you've written for

Your Mike is just perfect in every tiny bit you wrote for him

The best ship you've written for

Melot & Tamsyn - they are made for one another 🥰

A fic I haven't read yet from you, but I want to

Surfer!Mikey 🥺

Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics

Me making my most pouty face ever all the while I was reading the first chapter of White Blossoms - I was melting

What made me the most emotional after reading

Part 25 of Fixer Upper - Took me back 14 years to the most important day in my life. And you did so fucking well with this. It is still one of my favorite moments ever in reading fanfiction.

 What I like the most about your writing

Your sense of humour. I just love it!

A fic i'm excited for you updating/posting

Everything! For real! I can’t choose what I want you to work on. I need all of it!

A character/ship I didn't enjoy/think about as much before you wrote about them

You ignited my love for Melot, even before I got to read your stuff. But be sure, the way you write him made me fall even harder in love with him

Something I wish/hope you write

That modern au Charles fic you mentioned ages ago

A fic of yours that i've re-read

Uhm, I think there isn’t anything in your masterlist that I haven’t read at least twice. Like, every time I reblog I end up reading it once more. And some I may have read probably ten times or more. 

If i've ever shared/talked about your fic to someone else

lol - no - I would never talk about your stuff, or link it when people are talking about Sy teaching Mike how to go down on a woman or even DM spamming other mutuals with your stories. Or maybe I did all of this 😁

A fic I didn't expect to like so much

Making a mess of Mikey - He’s such a subby babygirl - but I love it - why did you make me love a subby babygirl?

A question I have about one of your fics

Under Orders 5 feat. the Captain - When? 

Ni.Na. You made me cry. Okay? (I read this when I was in a bad bad mood, you made it better.)

Where do I begin? -- At the beginning? That sounds logical. Ew. Oh well...

I've never been more glad that I got the crazy idea to toss 8 Henry-shaped men into the same house, because I might not have met you if I hadn't done that, and I wouldn't want to miss you <3

A fun fact about 'Of Vice and Men' -- It literally took me so long to write, and I initially hadn't planned on the three of them getting high together, but it just wouldn't happen any other way...

Your Mike is just perfect in every tiny bit you wrote for him

Hihi Thank you! (Which Mike... They're all so different, yet all the same adorable dork, whoops)

I am so glad you're loving Melot and Tamsyn (she was, quite literally, made for him. Hehe) They're so sweet and I love them so much, too...

Surfer!Mikey is 100% still underway - I'm just a little distracted at the moment, but I'm really close to realllyyyy finishing up White Blossoms, and then I hope I can shift my attention to my handsome surfer...

That modern au Charles fic you mentioned ages ago

That's really low on my list of things right now, I'm sorry :( I'll let you know if that ever gets back on the roster!

Making a mess of Mikey - He’s such a subby babygirl - but I love it - why did you make me love a subby babygirl?

Because I am evil, that's why... (I didn't know I'd love subby babygirl Mikey, either, but I think he's so fucking great T0T)

Under Orders 5 feat. the Captain - When? 

When I finally figure out what adding Sy will do to the relationship dynamic 🫣 I don't want to half-ass it and I realize it's taking a long time, but I need to get it right, sorry <3\

Cute head scritches for you, my dear non-rodent bestie <3

[teenagegoldrush]

"my druthers"

words: 11.7k

MASTERLIST season two

A/N: i do not claim to, nor do i own outer banks; the concept, characters, plot, etc

DAY SIXTEEN

The four of them spent the night at the Chateau, but everyone was gone when Andy awoke.

There was a text on her phone from Kie, explaining where everyone was. Obviously, Kie and Pope had gone to school. But there was no text on JJ’s whereabouts.

where are you? Andy texted him.

out and about

Where’s everyone else JJ replied.

school. it is Monday Andy said.

whoops

I’ll be back later, just hang tight ❤️

Andy shook her head. They were royally screwed with their attendance and it was only the third week of school.

It was still relatively early, not even ten o’clock. Andy decided to clean up a bit, picking up beer cans and closing up the chairs from their party the other night. Then she cleaned up inside, which didn’t need as much work as the outside, save for the dishes.

After a shower, and a piece of toast, Andy made her way back outside, sitting in a hammock and trying to enjoy the day. It was a little cooler than normal, after all, it was early September now.

The sound of a boat approaching broke her from her thoughts. She had no clue who it could be, considering the Pogue was tied up within her eyesight, and Pope was in school, so he wouldn’t have Heyward’s boat.

She sat up, straining to see the boat that was tying up to the dock, until Sarah walked up the ramp, Topper trailing not far behind her.

Andy, frowning in confusion, got up, walking to meet them. “Andy!” Sarah called, relieved to see her.

“Oh thank god you’re here, you won’t believe what happened!”

Andy replayed her and Sarah’s argument from the day before in her head. “What happened?” She asked, pretending to care.

“Well I finally got ahold of Wheezie last night, and she told me to meet her somewhere. So I did, but it turns out that it was Rafe. Somehow he got ahold of her phone.”

Andy nodded, listening to Sarah’s story. “So how exactly did you come to be with Topper?” She asked, referring to his presence.

“I tried talking to Rafe, even though I don’t trust him-“

“Oh, there’s your first mistake.”

“But he got so angry, and… Well he-“

“He tried to drown her.” Topper stepped in. “Lucky for her, I just so happened to be in the area and I saved her.”

Andy narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s totally not creepy at all…”

“She spent the night at my place, and asked me to bring her back here.”

A million thoughts ran through Andy’s head as she tried to rationalize her next move.

What would John B think about his girlfriend spending the night at her exes house?

Why the hell would Sarah trust Rafe at all?

It was totally weird that Topper knew where Sarah was, wasn’t it?

Why would Sarah think that Wheezie would actually be able to help them?

Why would Sarah think that Andy would want to help her after what she said?

“Well there’s nobody here to comfort you.” Andy snapped.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “What-“

“Kiara’s at school, so is Pope, and in case you forgot, John B’s in jail.”

“Of course I haven’t forgot, it’s John B, I was there when it happened.” Sarah frowned, shocked at Andy’s rash behavior.

“Of course you were there…” Andy shook her head. “This whole thing is your fault.”

“What?” Sarah scoffed.

“Are you serious-“ Topper began to speak.

“Yes, of course!” Andy chuckled sarcastically. “Everything leads back to you, Sarah Cameron!

We were fine on our own to find the gold, and I appreciate you finding the plantation maps for him, but you didn’t need to kiss him! Jesus Christ, everything that happened over the past month, is because of you!

The night of Midsummers, your dad taking responsibility for John B, John B taking the fall for Peterkin’s death, and everything in-between it’s all because of you!”

“Andy, are you kidding me? You think everything is my fault?”

“How could I not, Sarah! Before you came along, John B wouldn’t have even batted an eye at a Kook, any Kook! Now, he’s in prison for a murder, he didn’t commit!” Andy’s chest heaved with anger.

“I thought my best friend was dead! Do you understand how that feels? To think someone you’ve known your entire life is gone, just like that?” She snapped her finger.

“No, you don’t.” Andy shook her head. “So don’t give me your bullshit sob story about your psychotic brother, when it was your own dumb fault for trusting him in the first place.”

Sarah stood before Andy, leaning on the railing of the dock, tears streaming down her face. “Andy, I told you guys I’m sorry-“

“Sarah, don’t waste your breath.” Topper wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s clearly not your friend, let’s just go.”

“You can try back later, when school’s over. But don’t expect anything extravagant. They’ll probably agree with me.” Andy had no doubt in her mind, that the others would side with her, save for Kie, perhaps.

But it wasn’t like she hadn’t fought with Kie before too.

Andy watched as Topper and Sarah loaded back onto Topper’s boat and left. She knew deep down, she should feel bad about what she said, everything after the fishing trip, wasn’t Sarah’s fault.

The fishing trip wasn’t even Sarah’s fault, but it did in-fact all lead back to her. If she hadn’t kissed John B, nothing would’ve changed.

Andy went back to doing chores. She fed the chickens, did some laundry, tried to clean up the guest room, and before she knew it, JJ had returned. “Hey, what’s up?”

He smiled upon seeing her, leaning down to give her a kiss. “What’d you get up to today?”

“Nothing much.” She shrugged. “Cleaned up a bit, sat out in the sun, nothing exciting.”

“Sarah show up yet? Kie said she left last night and she didn’t know where she went.” JJ sat beside her on the couch.

Andy shrugged, playing dumb. “Didn’t come here. It’s just been me all day.”

“Huh, weird.” JJ shrugged.

“You gonna tell me where you were today?” Andy asked, propping her feet up on JJ’s lap.

“Had to go tie up some loose ends with cousin Ricky…” JJ sighed. “Man was not happy.”

Andy laughed. “Can you blame him? We stole his bus! What’d he say?”

“Well not much. He pretty much told me to fuck off and never bother him again.”

Andy nodded. “Sounds about right. Where else did you go?”

“Went home.” He shrugged. “Cleaned up a bit, just to get my mind off of things.”

“Oh…” Andy frowned. “What things?”

JJ turned to her, eyebrows furrowed. “John B, last night… my dad.”

Andy sighed, looking sympathetically at JJ. “Your dad’s gonna be fine, JJ.” She pursed her lips. “I almost think he’s better off in the big house-“

“D, are you serious?”

“Well that way you know where he is!” Andy defended herself. “You know that he’s getting taken care of, and he’s relatively safe.” She shrugged.

“That’s a good way of thinking about it.” JJ mumbled.

“Exactly-“ Andy was cut off by the sound of Kie’s car, and she and Pope entering the house.

“Afternoon schoolbirds.” JJ greeted them. “Anything interesting happen at ye old house of hell?”

“Everybody’s asking about ya’ll.” Kie said, tossing her backpack onto the floor.

“People actually care about us?” Andy asked.

“I guess so.”  Kie shrugged.

“No, they think you’re the next Sarah and John B.” Pope said.

“What!” Andy exclaimed.

“Word about last night spread and they all thought you guys went to jail together.”

“That’s sick-“ JJ grinned.

“Negatively sick!” Andy scoffed. “How did anyone even hear about it?”

“Peeler’s dad’s an EMT and he has a scanner at the house.” Pope shrugged.

“Peeler’s big fucking mouth…” Andy shook her head.

After a bit more recapping from school, the gang moved outside to the bungalow, trying to soak up the last few bits of summer that were left.

JJ decided to re-wax his surfboard, Kie strummed on her uke, Pope tinkered with a random clock he found, and Andy was waiting for her nail polish to dry.

“That’s a lot of wax on your board man. Put too much wax on it, it’s gonna be slippery.” Pope said, glancing over at JJ.

JJ ceased his actions, turning slowly to Pope. “Are you telling me how to wax my board Pope?”

“No, I’m just saying that’s a lot of wax-“

“No, no, no, no, you’re telling me how to wax my board. Are you kidding-“

“I’m just saying that’s a colossal waste of wax!”

Andy looked over at Kie, an amused smile on her face. “Guys, really?” Kie asked, annoyed with their bickering.

In the distance, the sound of a car horn broke through the trees. “Do you hear that?” Andy asked, sitting upright.

They all turned their attention to the driveway, as the Twinkie barreled down it, leaving a cloud of dust in her path. “No shit…” Andy grinned.

“Hold on, am I dreaming?” JJ asked, dropping the wax in his hand.

“No!” Pope shouted, eyes wide in shock.

“Guess who’s out the clink boy!” John B shouted back, getting out of the van.

“No freaking way man!” Pope exclaimed.

They all jumped up, rushing over to him. Kie made it to him first, then Pope, and JJ and Andy, the five of them sharing a group hug.

“We missed you.” Kie said.

“I missed you guys too.” John B smiled.

“So, how’d you do it? You bust out?” JJ asked as they broke apart.

“Um, they dropped the charges.” John B shrugged.

“They dropped the charges.” Pope repeated, confused.

“That’s phenomenal!” Kie smiled.

“So you’re telling me, I did all that work for nothing?” JJ asked, slightly offended that his plan didn’t aid John B at all.

Andy’s eyes widened. “The most elaborate escape plan of all time? From which we needed emergency evacuation from these two with? Try again slick.”

“”Foolproof”.” Kie quoted with her hands.

“Yeah, it was actually.” JJ scoffed.

“Wait, where’s Sarah?” John B asked, looking around them.

“Um…” Andy kicked at the dirt beneath her feet. “I’ve been here all day and she hasn’t shown.”

“She went to go meet Wheezie last night. She didn’t come back.” Kie shrugged.

John B shook his head, pushing past them and down to the dock. With John B back, Andy knew the inevitable would come, Sarah would return, and tell everyone how horrible she was to her, and shit would hit the fan.

It would happen, sooner probably than later. But Andy knew how to handle herself amongst the group, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t all fought before.

“So Sarah just dipped and didn’t call?” John B wondered aloud, as the rest of them had followed him.

“Yeah man, she just left her bag. Didn’t tell anybody.” Pope shrugged.

“Okay, well I really think Ward got to her.” John B began pacing up and down the dock. “I mean the dude tried to have me killed in jail-“

“Whoa, what?” Andy asked, leaning back against the dock post.

“Yeah, he sent someone to the prison who yoked me up and almost killed me.” John B replied, almost nonchalantly.

“Do we know who this dude was?” JJ asked.

“No-“ John B said.

“No, and you don’t need to get your dad or his buddies after him.” Andy glared at him, seeing right through his plan.

“I swear to god, I’m just gonna kill that son of a bitch someday.” John B shook his head, sitting back down on the boat.

“It’s okay…” Kie tried to reassure him.

“No Kie, it’s not okay. We gotta find Sarah.”

“No literally, it’s okay, she’s right there.” Kie pointed over his shoulder, where Sarah and Topper were returning on Topper’s boat once again.

Shit.

“John B!” Sarah called happily.

“What the hell is she doing with Topper?” Kie asked quietly.

Sarah radiated joy as she tossed a rope to JJ, he and Pope tying up Topper’s boat with the Pogue.

Andy stayed in her spot, messing with one of the buttons on her flannel. “What happened?” Sarah asked, after sharing a long hug with John B.

“They dropped all the charges.” John B smiled. “I’m a free man.”

“That’s amazing!” Sarah smiled, pulling John B in for a kiss.

Topper watched, unimpressed, over Sarah’s shoulder. “Listen Sarah, they’re coming after Rafe.” John B broke the news.

“Good, he’s completely unhinged.” Sarah nodded. “He jumped me last night.”

“What?” Kie asked.

“That’s why I didn’t come back last night.”

“Yeah, man, Rafe has lost his mind. He literally tried to drown his own sister.” Topper agreed, reminding everyone of his everlasting presence. “Thankfully I got there just in time.”

Still not creepy… “Yeah he did.” Sarah nodded.

“Well I guess I owe you one then Topper, don’t I?” John B said, refusing to look at Topper.

“It’s all good.” Topper shrugged. “I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?”

“Uh, that’s funny because she’s not actually my girlfriend. Right?” John B tapped Sarah on the shoulder.

Oh this should be good.

“Well what is she then?”

“Tell him.” John B nodded to Topper.

Sarah took a moment, looking between Topper and John B a few times. “I’m… I’m with him.” She nodded, convincing herself that was the right choice of words.

Topper chuckled. “Gotcha, you’re with him. Just needed a little clarity there.” He turned to look at JJ and Pope. “You guys clear on that?”

“Crystal.” Pope nodded.

“I think it’s clear you gotta go now.” JJ nodded too.

“Yeah, I think I’ll head out now. It’s about that time…” Topper turned, stepping back into his boat.

“Topper-“ Sarah grabbed his attention before he could leave, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Topper relished the hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

With that, Topper returned to his boat, JJ tossing him the ropes and leaving.

Sarah seemed content to be back in the presence of the group, save for Andy, who she wouldn’t even look at.

Now she was starting to feel a little guilty.

“Hey, Sarah, when you said you didn’t come back last night, what did you mean?” John B asked after a few minutes.

“What?” Sarah asked, playing dumb. Snitching on Andy wasn’t part of her plan.

“You didn’t come back last night. Did you come back another time?”

Sarah pursed her lips, looking around awkwardly. “Yeah… I came back this morning.”

John B frowned, not understanding what she meant. “You came back this morning? Was anybody here?”

Sarah sighed, looking up at the sky. “Andy was here.”

Shit.

“Andy, you said Sarah wasn’t here.” John B turned to look at her.

Sarah sadly looked over at Andy. “Topper brought me over after I stayed the night at his house, to see if any of you guys were here.

I mean, my brother had tried to kill me, so I wanted my friends to comfort me. But um… when I got here, it was only Andy.” Sarah sighed. “And she showed me her true colors.”

John B clenched his jaw. Andy could tell he was getting mad. “What did she say to you?”

“She said that she wouldn’t give the comfort I was looking for.” Sarah swallowed nervously. “And she said that everything that’s happened to us was my fault.”

Andy could practically feel the energy in the air change. This was some deep shit she had made for herself.

“You’re joking.” John B said. “Tell me she’s joking, Andy, I swear to god.” His eyes burned into her.

“She’s not lying.” Andy said calmly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” John B shouted, standing up. “You’re so self-involved that you couldn’t be there for her after a traumatic event? What is wrong with you? Is that how you really feel? Everything is Sarah’s fault?”

Andy frowned, tilting her head at John B. “Yes, John B, that’s how I really feel.” She sighed angrily. “Kie told you, the moment you involve her, everything goes to shit. And it did! We lost the gold, you got accused of murder and had to flee to another country! How could I not think it was her fault-“

“It was nobody’s fault, Andy! That’s what you don’t get! No matter what happened, it wasn’t anyone’s fault!” John B yelled. “Actually, you know what, since honesty is suddenly your new favorite hobby, I’m gonna tell you how I feel? Would you like that?”

Andy stood up, getting level with John B. “Be my guest.”

“Okay, first of all, how dare you?” He snapped. “How dare you treat her like that- How dare you treat anyone like that. That’s such a miserable and nasty way to be to people, especially my girlfriend, who’s supposed to be your friend too! I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with you, but you’re a completely different person than you used to be-“

“You mean I’m a different person from the one that couldn’t go a single minute without being drunk or high? I wouldn’t think anyone would complain about their friend finally being sober-“

“Don’t even fucking blame it on that shit, you’re just a mean person Andy!” John B was seething. “After everything I’ve done for you over the years, you couldn’t just once, put your own feelings aside and help someone else out?!

Who took you in after your piece of shit dad decided it would be cool to let his ten-year-old daughter live unsupervised on an island?

Who took you to school, and gave you food to eat, and signed your school permission slips?

Who kept you alive for seven years? Me and my dad, that’s who!

All your life, I have been there to pick up the pieces, and you can’t even treat the girl I love with enough respect to make her feel safe with you?

You’re a joke Andy. A selfish, mean, ungrateful, joke.”

Every word John B said was like a dagger in her heart. The words were true, but nonetheless, daggers. “John B-“

“I think you should leave.” He snapped, pointing towards the house.

“John B, seriously-“ Pope began to say.

Andy’s shoulders dropped, the weight of her actions settling on her shoulders.

“No. You’re right.” She nodded. “I’ll go.” She let out a shaky breath, turning and walking down the dock.

“You’re just gonna let her go? Just like that?” She heard Pope ask as she created more distance between them.

“You’re just as bad as she is, John B…” Was all she heard before they were finally out of ear-shot.

Andy made it to the edge of the driveway before the tears began to fall. Never in her life had she fucked up this badly. Not when she got arrested, or when she fought with Kie, or any other time.

She had never fought with John B like this. But she brought it on herself. Karma caught her, and she deserved everything she had coming.

Secretly, Andy hoped somebody would chase after her. She pretty much expected JJ to do so, considering he was in-fact her boyfriend.

But Andy made it the entire way home without anyone following her.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she unlocked the side door, stepping slowly into the trailer. But she wasn’t alone.

The trailer was no longer silent, as it usually was, the television could be heard in the next room.

Goosebumps rose on Andy’s arms, as she kicked her boots off. Pure dread replaced the feeling of guilt, and she slowly walked towards the living room.

She inhaled deeply, preparing herself for what was to come.

He sat on the couch, head propped against the back of it, eyes trained on the program playing on the screen. He hadn’t moved at the sound of her entering the house.

“Nice of you to finally make it home.” He spoke, eyes still fixated on the television.

“Dad.” Andy exhaled nervously. “You’re home.”

Dean finally looked away from the television, turning to look at his daughter. “Sit down. We have some things to discuss.”

Nervously, Andy sat down on the arm chair diagonal from him. Her dad turned the volume on the T.V down.

“So, what are you doing home?” She asked, trying not to set him off.

“Boat took a dump.” He sighed, readjusting his position to see her better. “Impellers busted, the water pump cracked, overall she just needs some fixing up so I decided to take a few weeks off and let her get cleaned up.”

Andy nodded, the fact that her dad would be home for the foreseeable future, sinking in. “What did you wanna talk about?”

Her dad chuckled. “Where to even begin with you?” He tapped his fingers on his leg. “So last time I left you, I had to pick you up from jail… How’s that restitution money coming?”

Andy had to quickly devise a game-plan. Have an answer for everything, but don’t give away too much. There were too many tiny details that would fuck up everything she had going for herself; bare minimum answers only. “Almost paid off. I’ve been working a lot at the shack, even throughout school. Nothing to worry about there.”

“Nothing happened between then and when I mysteriously got a phone call from Luke Maybank?”

Andy shook her head.

“Fill in the blanks there Andy.”

She sighed. “Well, to make a long story short… John B got involved with a Kook-“

“Involved?” He interrupted her.

“Romantically.” Her dad turned his nose up in disgust, as if he hadn’t done the exact same thing before.

“And, if you don’t mind me asking kid, what Kook?”

“Um, Sarah Cameron.” She sighed. “Ward Cameron’s daughter.”

Andy swore she saw the color drain from her father’s face. “Well I’ll be damned-“

“Anyway, Rafe- Ward’s son, shot the Sheriff. And they framed John B for it. Him and Sarah had to flee the country, in Luke’s boat, and we thought they were dead.”

“Thought they were dead?”

Andy nodded. “Turns out they weren’t, considering they drove right into a tropical storm. They turned up in Charleston a week later, we ran into them on the street-“

“You were in Charleston recently?”

“Yes, just the other day…” Andy waited a moment before continuing. “We made it one night before John B got busted, and we thought he was as good as dead, until he showed up this afternoon back at his house. But we got into a fight and he kicked me out. So that’s why I’m here.”

Dean sighed, absorbing the information. “That’s a lot to take in, kid.” He scratched his chin.

“I have questions: How did you end up in police custody? Why the hell were you in Charleston? And, why are you hanging around with the Camerons?”

Andy frowned, hoping the conversation wouldn’t take a wrong turn. “We- Me, JJ, Kiara, and Pope were technically accomplices to John B’s escape.”

She wasn’t going to mention the plethora of other minor crimes they had committed in the week prior to that, the entire premise of the event (the gold), or the fact that she punched Ward in the face.

“Well, Pope had a scholarship interview lined up, which he tanked, but the people that fund it wanted to meet with him. And their office is in Charleston, and we’re kinda a package deal, so we all went with him.”

She also wasn’t going to mention the fact that they skipped school, ditched Heyward’s truck, ended up running from a psychopathic descendant of the captain of the Royal Merchant, or hitched a ride on a stolen boat back home.

“And I’m not. Not really… Not anymore.” She sighed. “Sarah’s not my friend by choice. And if I ever had a chance to be her real friend, I blew it this afternoon.”

“I’ve always told you Kooks are bad news, Andy. Especially the Camerons. Nothing but no-good, snobby, trouble. Just trust me.” Her dad toyed with the remote in his hands. “So you been staying at John B’s?”

Andy hesitated answering this too. Her dad knew she was living with the Routledges when Big John was still alive, but she wasn’t sure what he would think if he knew she was staying there without any parental supervision. (Not that parental supervision was high on his list of priorities).

And they hadn’t even touched the topic of JJ yet. “Yeah… It’s where we all stay. Me, John B, JJ-“

“JJ, that’s Luke’s kid, right?”

My best friend, boyfriend, actually- “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

How unfortunate.

“You see much of him?”

“JJ or Luke?” That was a stupid question, but it was good to clarify.

“JJ.” Her dad squinted at her.

“See him? In what way?” Andy was growing nervous, avoiding the question.

“How many ways are there to see a person? He your friend or not?” He was getting agitated.

“Eh…” She couldn’t get a straight answer out.

“Why can’t you just answer me, damnit?” He snapped.

There it is. “Are you guys friends? Yes or no? Or is there something else you want to tell me? Be an adult and spit it out!”

“No!” Andy said, a little too loudly. She flinched, anticipating the worst.

“We’re just friends. Sort of- We fight a lot, bickering like little kids. But we stick around.”

Dean clenched his jaw, his shoulders relaxing as his daughter finally gave him a straight answer. “That’s nice. I hung around with his old man in school. Good to see bloodlines sticking together.”

Andy got the sudden urge to throw up. She was unsure what the exact pinpoint was. It could be many things; the comment about bloodlines sticking together, because everybody knew the Kane/Maybank bloodlines were nothing to gawk at, the entire fact that her father was home rather than anywhere else, or the fact that she had no escape. No safe-haven, nowhere else to go.

She was trapped.

Andy felt the sickening feeling enter her chest, her chest tightening. It traveled to her hands, which began to shake in her lap. The air around her grew thick, and she had a hard time breathing, her lungs feeling heavy.

Her father’s voice snapped her from her panic. “I’m not gonna get a hospital bill for that, am I?” He pointed to the very obvious bandage on her side.

Andy’s eyes widened and she looked down. “No, um no. We didn’t- I didn’t go to the hospital. I wouldn’t let them take me. I’ll be fine.” She inhaled nervously, looking anywhere but her father’s face.

“Is there anything else you have to ask me, because I’m just feeling a little sick. I think I got food poisoning or something, Pope isn’t the best cook-“

“No, nothing else.” Simple as that, her father turned the television back up, and no sooner than he did that, did Andy jump up, running outside, all the way to the dock, where she emptied the little contents of her stomach into the ocean.

Tears streamed down her face, her hands shaking as she collapsed onto the dock.

This was her worst nightmare. Her father was home, about to make her living a living hell, with his sick mind games. And she would have to endure them.

See, Andy’s father was abusive, but not in the way JJ’s father was abusive. No, Dean never laid a finger on his daughter, she was too physically strong for that.

Instead, he played with her emotions. He would rag on her about school, her appearance, her friends, he would keep secrets from her, creating the never-ending dread she felt.

She was almost seventeen, and she still didn’t know exactly what her father did for work, she knew he worked on a boat, but didn’t know what he did. And she would never know who her mother was, not with the way her father was.

He was the root of all evil. The source for all her issues.

And when he was gone, she had nothing to worry about. But now he was back, and she had nowhere to go, no John B in shining armor to whisk her away to the safety of the Chateau, no Kiara to provide her comfort through text. Not even JJ would probably answer her. He was John B’s ride-or-die.

She was alone. Completely alone. And she had nobody to blame but herself.

“Fuck!” She screamed to no-one. She screamed it to the sky, colored a beautiful orange, the day fading away. She screamed it to the birds, and the grass, and to the water, willing it to take her troubles away.

“Hey!” Her father’s voice interrupted her emotional struggles. “Quit fucking yelling and get inside!”

There it was. The unrelenting thumb of parental supervision.

She quickly wiped away the tears from her cheeks, clearing her throat, removing all suspicions that she could have been upset, and nodded, sadly walking back into the house.

When she went back in, her dad was back on the couch, thumbing through his phone. “I think it’s best if you spend the night here tonight. You said John B kicked you out anyway.”

Andy swallowed more tears. “About time, if you ask me. You’ve been mooching off of him for too long.”

Andy nodded, furious and fearfully, walking past him into her bedroom.

And that’s where she stayed for the rest of the night.

DAY SEVENTEEN

Andy awoke the next morning to the sound of someone banging on the side door. She had no clue who it could be, considering she thought all of her friends were mad at her. But the knocking persisted, and so she jumped up, lightly stomping to the door.

She swung it open, and behind it stood Pope, his fist raised to continue banging on the door. “Jesus Christ Pope, you’re gonna wake the dead!” She whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“Why are you whispering?” He asked, slightly annoyed.

“Shush!” She clapped her hand over his mouth. “You trying to wake my dad up?”

Pope’s eyes widened as Andy slowly removed her hand from his face. “Your dad is home?”

Andy nodded, sighing. “Boat’s out of commission for a few weeks.”

“Holy shit. I’m so sorry.” Pope said sadly. “I wanted to come over last night but I was so mad at John B and JJ I just went right home.”

“You were mad at them?” Andy asked, confused. “Not me?”

Pope had suddenly remembered why he had shown up at Andy’s. “Oh, no time to talk, I’ll tell you on the way.”

“On the way where?”

“Just get dressed, I’ll wait out here.” Pope ushered her back inside, closing the door on himself.

Andy, still confused, but eager to get away from her dad, practically ran back to her room.

She changed out of her clothes, into clean ones, brushed her teeth, and tripped over her own shoes as she rushed out the door. Pope had his dad’s truck back.

“Pops forgive you that fast?” She asked, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Emergency circumstances.” Pope answered, peeling out of the driveway. “But I do have to pay the entirety of the repair costs.”

“That’s to be expected.” She replied, already feeling better being away from home. “So tell me what’s going on.”

“Well, while you and JJ were playing prison-break, I visited my Meemaw’s old apartment. The one above the pharmacy. And I found the key Limbrey was talking about.”

Andy’s eyes widened. “No shit!”

“Yes shit!” Pope grinned, proud of himself. “I told my pops about it last night and he said I should go talk to her. But the only person I could think to take with me, is you. Plus, I think you’re the only one not mad at me right now.”

Andy frowned. “So what happened after I left yesterday?”

“Basically I yelled at John B for being too hard on you.”

“John B wasn’t too hard on me Pope, I didn’t need to be so mean to Sarah.” She shrugged. “Even though I was just telling her the truth.”

Pope glanced over at her. “Not saying I disagree with you, but just because it’s the truth, doesn’t mean it isn’t mean.” He sighed. “You were pretty nasty to her.”

“That’s just how I am!” Andy defended herself. “You saw how I was with Kiara!”

“Yeah, but Kie’s used to how you are, Sarah isn’t. You just caught her off-guard.” Pope looked at her again. “I don’t think she’s mad at you, I think she’s scared of you.”

Andy shook her head. “I did it to myself.”

“And I yelled at JJ for not sticking up for you. You are his girlfriend after all.” Pope paused for a moment. “John B got mad at you because he’s blinded by his love for Sarah.”

Andy scoffed. “I wish JJ was blind like that.”

“I think he is.” Pope shrugged. “But I also think he has a tough time choosing between you and John B.”

“Seriously?” Andy narrowed her eyes at him. “He shouldn’t have to pick sides.”

“I know, I know.” Pope nodded. “I know he’d never choose, but I’m just saying. He could’ve at least stuck up for you, defended your honor.”

Andy nodded too. “He’d never undermine John B’s “authority.”.”

“I’m just saying, if I had to choose, I know who I’d pick.”

Andy paused, staring thoughtfully at Pope. “Don’t say that.”

“What?” He smiled softly.

“Don’t go all soft on me Pope.” She shook her head, laughing quietly. “I appreciate you sticking up for me though, and coming to my rescue.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pope shrugged. “What are friends for?”

Andy smiled. “Now, tell me where we’re going.”

“We’re going to talk to Meemaw.”

Pope drove them to Shady Acres retirement home, right on the border between Figure 8 and the Cut.

Pope parked the truck, and the two of them got out. Much to Andy’s surprise, they didn’t have to check in when they got inside, Pope simply knew exactly where Meemaw would be.

She was asleep in an arm chair, the sun’s rays illuminating her face through the window.

“Come on.” Pope led her to Meemaw. Pope patted her leg. “Meemaw. Meemaw.” Andy felt really bad about waking Meemaw up, but it had to be done.

Meemaw woke, raising her head. “Oh…” She squinted at Pope. “Bobby?”

“No Memaw, it’s Pope. Heyward’s son.” Pope replied, standing up straighter.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to know that was you, standing so far away like that. Come on, show me your face.”

Pope sat down beside Meemaw and her face lit-up. “Oh yes!” Now she could see who it was.

Andy stepped forward, taking Pope’s place. “Meemaw, this is Andy.” He motioned to her.

Meemaw turned to look at her, smiling. “Nice to meet you sweetheart.” She looked back at Pope, continuing to smile. “Hello Bobby.”

“It’s Pope. Your great-grandson.” Pope corrected her. “Do you mind if we talk to you about something in private?”

With the help of a nursing assistant, they moved Meemaw to another room, where it was just the three of them.

Andy and Pope sat on either side of Meemaw. “Meemaw?” Pope asked. “Can I show you something?”

“Sure.” Meemaw replied.

Pope pulled the key out of his pocket, holding it out for Meemaw to see. “Do you recognize this?”

She took it in her hand, examining it. “Now what’s this to?”

“It used to belong to you. There’s an inscription on it.” Pope said. “It says “the path to the tomb begins in the island room.”

“The path to the tomb?” Meemaw asked.

“Do you know what the island room is?” Andy asked. “Or why your family has the key?”

“Take it away.” Meemaw shoved the key back into Pope’s hands.

“Meemaw? Meemaw, please you have to remember. Do you know whose key this is? Is this Denmark Tanny’s key?” Pope fired off questions.

“How did we get it?”

No answer.

“Are we related to Denmark Tanny?”

“And his wife.” Meemaw sighed, refusing to look at Pope.

“Cecelia?”

“Denmark and Cecelia are your great-grandfolks going way back.”

“Why did you keep this a secret from us?” Pope swallowed nervously. “Denmark Tanny is in our family, that’s a good thing!”

Andy couldn’t believe it. Little old Pope, related to the infamous Denmark Tanny?

“Do you realize what happened?” Meemaw asked, shocked by Pope’s reaction to the news.

“They hung him! I didn’t want nobody out there trying to avenge his name. I didn’t want what happened to him, happen to you or your daddy!

Pope frowned. “But we should’ve known.”

“I was protecting you baby. It was better you didn’t know.” Meemaw grabbed Pope’s chin, forcing him to look at her. “And I don’t want you doing nothing crazy now.”

Pope shook his head. “No crazier than I normally do.”

That made Meemaw laugh. “Oh, I love you Pope.”

She leaned in, and Pope did too, the pair hugging each other. “Family’s all we got.”

After they finished hugging, Andy stood up, joining Pope. “We’d better get going now Meemaw. Thank you for talking to me.”

Meemaw smiled again. “Well come here baby, you can’t leave without letting me hug you too.”

Andy smiled softly, leaning down for Meemaw to hug her. “You got a good one here Pope, don’t let her go.”

Pope and Andy’s eyes widened. “No, Meemaw, we’re not-“

Andy tapped Pope’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. She won’t even remember we were here tomorrow.”

They turned, walking back out the door they came in and to the truck. That was when Pope’s phone rang.

“Dad? Hey, calm down. Okay- Okay, okay, me and Andy are on the way. Don’t move.” He hit the gas, the truck lurching forward.

“Whoa, Pope, what’s going on!” Andy smacked her hands on the dashboard.

“Somebody attacked my dad.” He replied, clutching the steering wheel. Andy nodded, understanding his anger.

Heyward was the nicest person Andy had ever met, and any person that hurt him deserved a special place in hell.

They arrived at Pope’s a few minutes later, Pope barely throwing the truck into park before he jumped out and ran up the steps to where his dad was.

Andy chased after him, frowning at the sight of Heyward’s injury. Truthfully, it could’ve been worse; a large gash was slapped on his forehead, blood running down the side of his face and onto his shirt.

“Andy- Hi.” Heyward sighed at her.

She waved at him, approaching him to examine the injury. “Pop, what happened?”

“I shoulda known better. He came in right as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he got me down, he had his knee on my chest.” Heyward took a moment to catch his breath.

“He asked about the key from that drawing you showed me- And in case you’re wondering, I ain’t tell him nothing.”

Andy smiled at Heyward’s comment. “Now, did you track it down?”

Pope sighed, pulling it out of his pocket. “I found it, in Meemaw’s old apartment above the pharmacy, just like you said it was.”

“We actually just went to see Meemaw when you called Pope.” Andy nodded.

“Shit, boy you should’ve just given it to me. I wouldn’t have had to take a beating. And what’s the big deal anyway, it’s not worth anything-“

“No, dad, you don’t understand, this key is rightfully our’s.” Pope handed it to his father. “We’re related to Denmark Tanny. And I was gonna just give it to that lady, the Limbrey lady, but I wanted to talk to Meemaw first.”

Heyward smiled. “Well it’s a good thing you did, son. I didn’t raise you to back down from a fight.”

“I’m gonna call the others, let them know what happened, Andy you mind cleaning Pop up?” Pope asked, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Andy shook her head. “I’ll be right back.”

Pope stepped away to call the others, and Andy went down into the shop, coming back up with the first-aid kit.

“So how comes you two aren’t with the rest of your friends? Something happen?” Heyward asked as Andy began to clean his head up.

She sighed, ripping open an alcohol pad. “I got into a fight with Sarah, and then with John B about Sarah And Pope got into a fight with John B and JJ about me. And here we are.” She dabbed his head with the pad.

Heyward winced, nodding. “I don’t even wanna know what the hell ya’ll could’ve been fighting about, but you’d better make up. Especially if you’re going on another damn treasure hunt. You gotta stick together.”

Andy nodding, knowing Heyward was right, and an apology was in-order. “Ya know, you’re totally right.”

“I usually am.” He nodded. “And, you better tell that JJ to watch his ass because if he don’t start sticking up for you, I’m gonna kick him-“

Andy laughed, wiping the blood from Heyward’s face as Pope came back up the steps. “They’ll be here in five, just hang tight.”

“Ain’t got nowhere else to go.” Heyward shook his head at his son.

Pope paced back and forth on the deck, waiting for the others to arrive. Andy opened a large bandage. “Just let me know if I’m hurting you at all.”

“You’re doing just fine.” Heyward replied, just as the sound of the van doors could be heard.

“I didn’t tell them you were with me.” Pope said quietly, as the sound of the rest of their friends could be heard growing closer.

She turned her back to the steps, dunking her hands in a bucket of water Heyward had filled to clean the deck at the end of the day.

“Hey man, your pops okay-“ JJ asked, practically running up the steps. He stopped as soon as he saw Andy.

When she turned around, Kie, John B, and Sarah had arrived too. “What are you doing here? You sneakin’ around with Pope now?”

Andy knew deep-down, JJ meant that as a joke, but she wasn’t in the mood.

Before she could respond though, Pope answered him. “I picked her up this morning and we went to see my Meemaw, to ask her about the key.”

“Well what the hell happened to your dad then?” JJ asked, squinting to see Heyward’s head better.

“The guy from Charleston, Limbrey’s brother? He’s here, and he jumped my pops to try and get information on the key.”

“He didn’t tell him anything, did he-“

“Quit talking about me like I’m not here, JJ!” Heyward snapped. “I ain’t no snitch!”

Andy couldn’t help but laugh at Heyward’s outburst. “He didn’t even know anything about it until we just told him like ten minutes ago.” Pope added.

“I wasn’t interested before, but now I am. Got personal involvement. Did she tell you why she wants it?”

Pope shook his head. “Something about an old cross. I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.”

“Meemaw didn’t say anything else?“

“Nothing except the fact that you guys have a dangerous legacy.” Andy shrugged, only speaking because it was to Heyward.

“A dangerous legacy? What do you mean?” Kie asked.

Pope sighed. “Meemaw told me that we’re related to Denmark Tanny.”

“No shit.” John B finally spoke.

“So what’s our next move?” JJ asked.

“I think we need to meet with Limbrey.” Sarah said.

“Level the playing grounds, get even with them. For the sake of your dad-“ Andy twisted one of the rings on her finger.

“No, no, hell no.” Heyward patted her leg. “You don’t need to go out there avenging my name, not especially to that man. He might be a bit much for ya’ll to handle. Although I appreciate your enthusiasm. Ya’ll just go get some answers, and when you find the treasure, make sure I get some for my grievances.”

Pope frowned, squeezing his father’s shoulder. “You sure dad?”

“The hell I am!” Heyward shrugged his son off. “Go get rich, kids!”

JJ shrugged, standing up off the bench he was sat on. “You heard the man, let’s go!”

John B, JJ, Pope, and Kie all started down the steps. Sarah and Andy were the last to go.

Andy was actually planning on walking home, and not continuing on the journey with her friends, but Sarah’s voice caught her off-guard. “Aren’t you coming?”

Andy stopped, staring back at her. “I- I don’t know if that’d be the best idea.”

“Andy, we’re not a team if you’re not involved in it.” Sarah waved her hand towards the van. “Come on.”

Andy followed her a few steps. “Sarah, wait.” Sarah stopped, back-tracking a few steps. “I’m sorry.”

Sarah frowned. “Andy-“

“No, Sarah, really. I’m sorry. Nothing that happened was your fault, and even if I felt that it was, I should have kept it to myself. I didn’t take your feelings into consideration, and that was a pretty shitty thing to do, especially with everything you’ve gone through.”

Andy sighed. “So, if you can learn to live with me around, I’d really appreciate it, because without my friends around, I think I’m better off dead-“

Before Andy could say anything else, Sarah grabbed her, pulling her into a hug.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, you’re like the biggest bitch I’ve ever met. But I accept your apology because I need you around too. Even if we haven’t been friends that long.”

Andy chewed on her lip, afraid to let go.

“And quit saying shit like that, “you’re better off dead”, you don’t have to worry about losing us. We’ll always come crawling back.”

Sarah pulled away, smiling softly. “Also, me and John B are also fighting, so we can consider ourselves two peas in a pod, okay?”

Slightly shocked, Andy nodded, following Sarah the rest of the way to the van.

Inside sat Kie and JJ, then Pope up front with John B, and Andy and Sarah in the very back. The group was clearly divided.

“Guys, the thing that Limbrey said, I don’t think she meant for it to slip.” Pope held the key in his hand. “She said the key leads to the Cross of Santo Domingo.”

“Are we supposed to know what that is?” Sarah asked.

JJ reached to Pope, taking the key from his hand. “I’m sensing some major attitude from the backseat.” He mumbled, examining the key.

Pope ignored his comment. “I’m guessing it’s some historical artifact of great importance.”

“Well, according to the inter-webs, it was a gift from New Spain to the Spanish king.” Kie read from her phone.

“New Spain? Is there an old Spain?” JJ asked.

“Shit, talk about over-gifting. Look at that thing.” Kie showed a picture of the cross on her phone to everyone.

“So it’s a giant-ass cross.” JJ shrugged.

“It was widely considered at the time to be the most extravagant tribute ever from the provinces. It was lost off the coast of Bermuda in 1829.”

“Did you just say Bermuda?”

“Oh no, not the triangle.” John B gasped in mock-shock.

“It always leads back to the triangle dude.” JJ groaned. “Like every single time something’s weird, its the triangle.”

Halfway through town, Pope insisted they make a pit-stop, so they did, and the girls too the opportunity to take a gossip-break as well.

"So what, you two made up? Sarah, you forgave Andy like that?” Kie asked as soon as they were out of ear-shot of the van.

“I actually apologized, Kiara.” Andy shrugged. “I know, very out-of-character for me, but I think it’s part of my new, less self-deprecating outlook on life.”

Kie nodded, impressed with Andy’s newfound self-awareness. “So, Sarah, what’s got John B’s panties in a twist?”

“I thanked Topper for saving my life?” Sarah snapped back.

“Oh my god, you thanked Topper?” Andy asked, mockingly.

“Of course I thanked him!” Sarah said. “He saved my life, and I put him through so much already, and you’d think it was the crime of the century!”

“Tell me about it.” Kie sighed. “All of this crazy shit is happening, and Pope’s giving me the silent treatment for not being in love with him.”

“And we’re the dramatic ones.” Sarah smiled.

“And for once, I’m the opposite.” Andy sighed. “I’m the one whose pissed, because my boyfriend won’t even stick up for me in a fight, because I was fighting with his best friend.”

“I know John B was defending my honor, but honestly, JJ kinda pissed me off too!” Sarah nodded in agreement. “He should’ve stuck up for you like John B was doing for me.”

Kie also nodded. “Shitty move.”

The girls quieted down when they arrived back at the van, climbing inside without a word.

Pope returned a moment later, and they ended up where Pope had arranged to meet Limbrey. Sarah, Kie and Andy stuck together, trying to not let it seem like they were about to gang up on the boys.

“I still can’t believe that you’re related to Denmark Tanny.” John B smiled at Pope. “Are we in the presence of a royal?”

“A king?” JJ asked, placing an imaginary crown on Pope’s head. “We shall crown him! All hail, Lord of Tannyhill!”

Andy almost laughed, before she realized it was JJ making a joke. “Okay, relax. Relax.” Pope shook his head.

“Relocate to Cat’s Ass, question mark?” Sarah asked. “After our very important meeting, of course.”

“How soon can we move in?” Kie asked, grinning at Pope.

“Cause I don’t have a place to stay.” JJ nodded in agreement.

“Oh, same, I really don’t wanna go home to my dad-“ Andy nodded, catching herself before she said anything else.

Andy could tell that her statement made the vibes immediately drop. “Your dad’s home? What?” Kie asked, suddenly concerned.

Andy kicked her legs in the air, her shoes swinging back and forth on the cooler she was sat on. “Yeah, not a big deal, the boat’s broken, he’s just home so Guffy can fix it for him.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” JJ asked, sitting his beer down.

Andy furrowed her eyebrows at him. “Well I figured none of you would want to look at an SOS text from me after I fought with all of you like that.” She sighed, pausing, and stuffing her feelings back down her throat.

“It’s not important anyway, Pope, didn’t you say that the letter Limbrey sent had that wheat symbol on it? Like the one from Denmark’s letters?”

Pope stared at her for a moment, almost as if to ask “are you positive you don’t want to elaborate on your feelings about your dad being home?”

“It must mean it has something to do with the Royal Merchant. And if we find the cross, we can split it, like we’re gonna split the gold.”

“And live happily ever after?” A new voice, coincidentally belonging to Limbrey herself, came into play. If Andy thought she brought the vibes down, this lady brought them to a new all-time low.

“You assaulted my father!” Pope snapped, stepping forward, but the man beside her pushed him back.

Andy jumped down from her cooler. “Oh I didn’t assault anybody.” Limbrey responded.

“Yeah, it was you, you son of a bitch.” Andy snapped, shoving at the man as he walked Pope back against the railing.

Andy expected him to retaliate, but before he could, JJ grabbed her wrist, yanking her back beside him and keeping her in place.

“Why would my employee assault your father? That’s absurd.” Limbrey chuckled to herself. “Listen, we can keep negotiating, but the fact is, I want that key. And I won’t stop until I have it. I don’t have a choice, and that means you don’t either.”

“It’s Limbrey right? Is that right?” John B asked, holding the key in his hand, high enough in the air for everyone to see.

“Yes.” She replied, eyes widening at the sight.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Yes it is.”

“Looking at the tide, right now, I’d say it’s about twenty feet deep.” John B shrugged, staring out at the water behind them. “So, if I just threw it in the channel, the probability of you finding it again is slim-to-none. You wanna give it a shot?”

“No, hey!” John B faked her out, pretending to throw the key into the water. “Please don’t do that.”

Andy, wrist still in JJ’s hand, glared at John B, who locked eyes with her, nodding. “Get him to back the hell off.” She said, referring to Limbrey’s attack dog.

“Of course.” She nodded, and just like that, he stepped back. Andy yanked her wrist out of JJ’s grip, stepping to stand beside Pope.

Limbrey shuffled forward. “As I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m wiling to be reasonable.”

Pope looked at Andy for guidance. She nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Limbrey asked.

“I’ll give you the key, but I want the tape.”

“Of course.” Andy could tell a weight was lifted off of Limbrey’s shoulders.

John B stood up off the railing. “Pope, hey, you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“No, it’s okay.” Pope insisted.

“It’s your family-“

“No, it’s okay.” Pope nodded. “It’s about your dad. That’s way more important.”

John B hesitantly handed the key to Pope, who handed the key to Limbrey’s “employee”. “The tape.”

Limbrey nodded. “The tape, give him the tape.” Limbrey made an even trade with Pope, exhaling loudly when the key was finally in her hand.

"You know, I wish you’d have come to this decision earlier. We could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.”

“Nice to meet you.” John B said as they walked away.

Limbrey’s lap dog turned, smiling. “See you around Pope.”

Andy clenched her jaw, stepping forward, fully ready to take some frustrations out on that man, but Pope stopped her, holding her wrist in his hand, like JJ had.

“Not worth it.” He mumbled, making her step back beside him.

“How long you thing it’ll take before she realizes she has your father’s old key?” JJ asked John B slyly.

“Ten minutes.” John B shrugged.

Pope whipped around. “Whose idea was the fake key?”

“Shockingly, not mine.” Kie shrugged.

John B and JJ grinned like a pair of Cheshire cats. John B wrapped his arm around JJ’s shoulders. “I dunno, should we tell them?”

“Wow!” Kie exclaimed. “I’m impressed. Maybe you are good for something.”

“Did hell freeze over?” Pope smiled, wrapping his friends in a hug.

JJ shrugged nonchalantly. “Even a blind pig can find an acorn at times.” He laughed, enjoying the hug with his boys. “I actually don’t even know what that means, I saw it on Reddit.”

Andy was in shock. The whole thing was a ploy, made up by JJ and John B, of all people? Hell had to have frozen over.

“We have to take the tape to Shoupe.” John B said.

“Yes sir.” JJ saluted him. “Ward Cameron, we’re coming for you big boy!”

The boys decided, the very next morning, they would all ride down to the police station and give Shoupe the tape, but for the night, a group sleepover (even if they were separated by girls/boys) was in-order.

Sarah and Kie had taken up in the spare room, Andy planning on sleeping on the floor, and the boys had free-range of the rest of the house, a small price to pay for a girls night.

John B and Pope were sat out at the hammocks, and both Kie and Sarah were inside showering. Andy thought she was alone, internally fighting herself on whether or not to go home for the night, when JJ sat down beside her on the couch.

“You okay?”

At first, Andy said nothing, she simply turned to look at him, waiting a long moment before answering. “No. I don’t think I am.” She sighed, looking away.

“Why didn’t you text me? About your dad coming home?”

“Like I said, JJ, I didn’t think anybody would care about an SOS text from me considering none of you followed me after John B kicked my ass out of here.”

“I care-“

“Really JJ, cause it really seems like you don’t.” She snapped. “You’re always saying shit about how things would be different if you were like John B. Well John B was fighting with me because he was defending Sarah.”

“My best friend and my girlfriend were fighting with each other Andy, I don’t know what you wanted me to do! I’m not gonna chose between you two!” JJ shook his head, growing angry with her.

“I’m not asking you to chose, JJ!” She snapped back. Suddenly, her anger was replaced with sadness, and tears filled her eyes. “I’m just asking for a little backup once in a while, because I can’t do it all on my own all the time-“

Her voice broke, and she stopped herself, burying her face in her hands as tears streamed down her face. “This is me asking for help.”

“Fuck.” JJ muttered, pulling Andy’s body onto his lap and holding her tightly. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve known.”

“How could you have known?” Andy sniffled. “It’s not like I’m super open with my feelings or anything.”

“No, I know.” JJ shook his head. “I should’ve told John B to shut the fuck up and made you two make up right then and there.” JJ frowned, leaning his head on top of her’s.

“And when you left I should’ve followed you. Instead Pope swooped in and saved the day.”

“He’s pretty good at it too.” Andy chuckled half-heartedly. “I forgot all about my dad for a few hours.”

JJ shook his head. “Well you don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

Andy looked up at him.

“I mean it. I’m not leaving your side ever. I’m gonna go where you go, and I’ll take care of you. Even if you say you’re fine.”

“Okay.” Andy nodded, leaning back into him. Although, the independent woman in her hated to admit it, it felt damn nice to be back in his arms.

It felt nice to know that she had someone safe to go to if she needed help. And it was nice to know that someone cared about her enough, to love her when she needed help.

“Hey, I see you lovebirds made up.” John B suddenly appeared on the porch. “You in the mood for another reconciliation?” He nodded at Andy.

Andy sat upright on JJ’s lap, turning to John B. “I mean, I kinda have a sleepover to get to… but I think I can squeeze it in.”

She got up, JJ’s hand lingering in her’s, and she followed John B. He lead her down the dock, where the HMS Pogue was sitting pretty.

“Andy, I need to apologize to you.”

Andy rolled her eyes, leaning against the railing of the dock. “You really don’t John B.” She shook her head. “I deserved it.”

“Are you kidding me? You should’ve knocked me on my ass the way I was talking to you-“

“John B, you were doing what’s right, you were defending Sarah. She doesn’t have many people on her side right now, and she needs you.”

Andy looked over at him. “And I’m not trying to side-step from our fight, but you really should forget about the whole Topper thing. Because it’s not worth it.”

John B didn’t look at her, but instead, up at the moon.

“But anyway, I’m sorry.” Andy looked up at the moon too. “I’m sorry I treated Sarah like shit, and thought you weren’t gonna find out. I’m sorry for everything. I just want everything to be okay again, like it was before.”

“Before what, specifically?”

“John B.“ Andy sighed. “Before you died? Before Ward fucking Cameron decided to make us all public enemy number one? Before everything seemed to come crashing down on me?”

“Andy-“

“Shit is not alright. Not for me.” She sighed. “I keep fucking stuff up, or getting mixed up in shit and it isn’t getting better, so the least I can do is have my friends. So I’m done fighting with you guys. I don’t care anymore-“

John B cut her off, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m sorry too, Squid.” He mumbled against the top of her head. “Shit is going down but hopefully it’s gonna stop. I’m just glad you’re going through it with me.”

She pulled away, staring up at John B, who smiled at her. “By the way, did you ever realize that you ramble when you’re upset? Kinda like JJ does when he’s excited-“

Andy swatted at his chest, shaking her head. “I know, I know, we’re just two peas in a pod. Perfect for each other. You don’t even need to say it.” She and John B laughed.

“Hey, Andy! You coming to bed?” Sarah yelled, standing on the porch.

Andy nodded, although Sarah couldn’t see her. “Yes ma’am!”

She and John B walked back up the dock, hugging once more. “Night sis.” He smiled softly at her.

Andy nodded, hesitantly. “Night bro.”

Joh B turned, joining Pope, and now JJ at the hammocks, and Andy met Sarah on the porch.

“Look at you, making amends with all of your vendettas in one day.” Sarah slipped her hand into Andy’s, leading her back into the house.

“Well if I can make a bunch of problems in one day, why not solve them in one day too?” Andy smiled, swinging their hands dramatically.

When they got into the spare room, Kie was already passed out on the bed. Sarah climbed in beside her, shutting off the light as Andy made herself comfortable on her makeshift bed on the floor.

She slept peacefully that night.

DAY EIGHTEEN

The next morning, Andy opted to hang with the boys, instead of Sarah and Kie. John B had woken up bright and early and gone to the police station on his own, returning after everyone else had awoken, with the news of Ward’s impending arrest.

The sky was crying again, rain pounding on the old roof of the Chateau, as Kie and Sarah sat quietly on the sun porch.

Andy sat at the kitchen table with the boys, celebrating their victory.

At last, justice would be served. Rafe was in jail, and Ward was next. John B was finally free, and the nightmare was over.

Andy felt a weight lifted from her shoulders, on her friend’s brother’s behalf.

The presence of her father was still looming over her, but it didn’t compare to the feeling of finally being free from Ward’s watching eye.

“Brrr-ing.” JJ imitated a phone ringing. “Ladies and gentlemen, Ward Cameron, king of the Kooks, is going to jail!” Andy couldn’t help but crack a little smile, as John B and Pope laughed at JJ.

Andy did feel some remorse for Sarah, after all, it was her father. But, she didn’t feel as strongly about Sarah’s emotions, as she did about John B.

“Goodbye! Adios! He’s outta here!” Pope joined in with JJ.

Andy noticed, out of the corner of her eye, as Sarah stood up from the couch, her phone to her ear.

Kie looked into the kitchen, shrugging when Andy tilted her head at her. The boys cheered around her, goofing off in the name of Ward.

Sarah hung up with whoever she was on the phone with, and turned back to Kie. “I need to go.”

“We’ll come with you.” Kie nodded, standing up. “Guys, come on!”

Without a word, Andy knew what was going on. The person who called Sarah, was Topper. His grandfather was the judge, and he had undoubtedly signed the warrant request.

Topper was calling to warn Sarah. They were going for her dad.

They all piled into the van, John B taking off as fast as he could.

Unfortunately for Sarah, the Twinkie didn’t do well in general, especially under-pressure, and they had to make it all the way across the island, dodging police vehicles on every street.

“Oh my god, can you please hurry, I need to be there for Wheezie!”

At the risk of sounding ungrateful, that her (ex?) boyfriend was driving her to watch her father get arrested, Sarah gripped her seatbelt as John B took a turn rather sharply.

“You think I wanna miss this?” John B asked, eyes never leaving the road.

Andy winced, reminding herself that she needed to have a talk with John B about reading the room, before speaking during certain situations.

They pulled up outside the Cameron residence, the cloud of settling dust from the police cars telling them they hadn’t missed anything important yet.

They gathered outside the wall outside the property, struggling to see. The hoard of police officers running towards the back of the house.

“Sarah, are you sure you don’t wanna go in, with Wheezie? I mean, it’s still your house-“ Kie turned to Sarah.

But John B had other ideas. “Screw it, I’m going over.” He hoisted himself over the wall.

“Right behind you.” JJ nodded, jumping too. Wordlessly, Andy grabbed his hand, pulling herself up and over the wall too.

She locked eyes with Sarah as she hit the ground, feeling another pang of sadness, but not enough to deter her from wanting to see Ward get his karma.

Pope helped Kie and Sarah over, and then the six of them were headed in the direction the police went.

Wheezie and Rose exited the house, grabbing Sarah’s attention. “Why are the police here again? Sarah!”

Sarah ran to her sister, holding her in her arms. “Wheezie, Wheezie, listen to me. Go inside, don’t come out, okay?” Wheezie nodded, returning to Rose, and going back inside.

John B, followed closely by Sarah, and the rest of them, ran towards the point, where the police were situated.

“Dad?” Sarah called, still unsure of where he was.

They all held their hands up, showing the police they weren’t a threat, as they reached the wall of police. “Hey, you gotta let us through-“ John B begged.

“That’s Sarah Cameron, let ‘em through!” Shoupe yelled, and a break was made in the wall of humans for them to pass through.

Sarah stepped in front of John B, walking down the dock. “What are you doing here Sarah?” Ward called.

Andy’s eyes traveled to him, where he was perched on the top deck of the Druthers, a glass of scotch in-hand. He seemed oddly casual about the situation, but the fact that he wasn’t within arms-reach of the police force made a chill creep up Andy’s spine.

Something was going to happen.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Sarah called back, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

They kept their hands up until they passed by all the officers, Andy immediately grabbing JJ’s hand when they reached the end of the dock.

He ran his thumb over her knuckles, looking at her, concerned. “Something’s not right, J.” She whispered.

He shook his head, still holding her hand, and turned back to watch Ward.

“Vic, you gotta get her outta here! She can’t be here right now!” Ward shouted, becoming hysterical.

“Just come on in, you can talk to her!” Shoupe replied, trying to reason with him.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry baby, I can’t!” Ward turned, pushing the button to pull the anchor up.

He was going to try and escape, as if the police hadn’t already pre-planned for that.

“What are you doing dad? No, no no!” Sarah tried to persuade her father to stop.

“Ward!” Shoupe yelled. “This ain’t gonna end the way you want it to.”

In the distance, police and coast guard boats were headed towards the point. “You don’t need her seeing this!”

“No, dad, don’t leave! Where are you going?” Sarah shouted.

Ward climbed down to the middle deck. “I love you Sarah!”

“Damnit Ward, turn it around and get back here!” Shoupe yelled again.

“Please don’t go!” Sarah cried, begging her father to rethink his actions.

Ward disappeared inside the cabin of the Druthers, pulling the door shut behind him. No sooner did he shut the door, than did the Druthers explode.

Andy gasped, stumbling into JJ from the shock of the blast.

The boat went up in flames, bits of fiberglass and metal flying throughout the air and landing in the water.

On the dock, they could feel the heat, it was hotter than any summer heatwave they’d ever experienced, and the smell of the fire was unimaginable.

Sarah gasped, staring in shock at the boat. “Dad!” She cried, her voice breaking. “Dad!”

Andy frowned, feeling the utter grief radiate off of Sarah. She couldn’t help but be in shock, she had just seen a boat explode, with Ward Cameron on it. And deep-down, she was relieved, and slightly joyous, that the world was rid of that monster.

But she also was sad, for Sarah, because Andy knew what it was like, to live without a father. (Even though her’s was alive, he wasn’t present, ever.)

“No, Dad, no!”  Sarah sobbed, turning to John B for comfort. But he provided none, he simply stood, stone-faced, watching his father’s killer burn.

John B watched as Topper ran down the dock, in just enough time to catch Sarah as she collapsed to the ground, overcome with grief.

Andy couldn’t watch anymore. She turned, hiding her face in JJ’s shoulder as she tried to block it all out. The heat, the sound of Sarah’s wailing.

Andy didn’t think she would ever be able to forget the sound of Sarah crying.

“S’okay.” JJ whispered, rubbing her arm. “We’ll get outta here soon.”

Andy nodded, trying to regulate everything in her brain. “Shit’s going down, but hopefully it’s gonna stop.” Was what John B had said the night before.

And it had. Ward was dead, and they were finally free.

Face still buried in JJ’s shoulder, Andy, despite the overwhelming emotions she was feeling, couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

Ward Cameron was dead.